


Daylights, Sunsets

by lazarusthefirst



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Drinking, Feelings, Getting Together, M/M, Polyamory, Professional Exy (All For The Game), Romance, Threesome - M/M/M, mentions of past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 67,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27358909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazarusthefirst/pseuds/lazarusthefirst
Summary: And they were roommates .....
Relationships: Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau, Kevin Day/Jean Moreau, Kevin Day/Jeremy Knox, Kevin Day/Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau
Comments: 100
Kudos: 188





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been percolating in my brain for the entirety of this hell year so I decided to give it life and end 2020 with a threeway bang. There will be feelings and emotions and difficulties, but this is a PROPER polyamory, as in A loves B loves C. None of your love triangle shit. 
> 
> Rating may change, number of chapters may change. Weekly updates! <3

As years went, Jean’s first and only one at USC went better than the rest of his life combined. 

Ten months rooming with Jeremy Knox had given him a reasonable sleep schedule, a habit of talking back, and a mild caffeine addiction. There was also the matter of his moderate to severe crush on his charming, full of life roommate, which grew by several orders of magnitude with each passing day. But, one problem at a time.

There was one last game before the Trojans could officially call themselves champions. Which they would gladly do, unless Kevin Day had his way. 

‘Are you guys speaking at all?’ Jeremy asked him one afternoon, during a break in practice. They’d spent 45 minutes going over their strategy to handle Kevin alone. It had been both exhausting and deeply annoying. 

Jean glanced at Jeremy over the rim of his water bottle. ‘Kevin?’ He snorted. 'Not these days.’

Jeremy smiled. ‘And what about before?’ He was rubbing absently at his knee, always a little sore after an intense practice. 

Jean's relationship with Kevin had always been complicated, from the very day they’d met. Despite the fact he knew that he personally would take losing the championship much better than Kevin would, he still didn’t much feel like talking to Kevin about it. 

‘Sometimes,’ he said, vaguely.

‘You were close though? Friends?’

Jeremy had always been very interested in his relationship with Kevin. Jean knew he gave very little away, but that was just how he was built. And sometimes he felt like if he opened himself up to Jeremy’s kind eyes and steady smile then he’d spill it all, and never stop.

‘More like allies,’ Jean said. ‘Why are you so interested?’

Jeremy gave him that infuriating little smile that said, _we can both be mysterious_. ‘Professional curiosity.’

Jean just rolled his eyes and pretended to be annoyed when Jeremy nudged him with his foot, when really his heart was pounding somewhere in his oesophagus. 

Things on the court were a little more tense than usual, particularly among the seniors. Everyone knew the scouts from all the major teams would be at the final game. It wasn’t like conversations hadn’t already been had - the rumours were flying - but everyone was playing it close to the chest. Until that contract was signed, everything was up in the air. And the final game could be a make or break. 

Jean wasn’t too concerned. Technically he should be; he hadn’t come this far in life without exercising extreme diligence. And he sure did have a hefty pair of shackles around his wrists in terms of his future career, thanks to Neil Josten. 

But Jean was the best backliner in the league, and he had teams blowing up his phone. New York, Miami, Denver; three of the best in the country, but for Jean the only differences were climate and accent. Not enough for him to care. He might end up just pulling a name out of a hat. 

Jeremy was doing his best to keep his teammates focused on the game, rather than on scouts and media coverage. The tension showed in the soft lines around his mouth and the corners of his eyes. But when it came to his own choices, Jeremy just shrugged and smiled and changed the subject. And maybe it was because Jean paid more attention to him than a normal person should, but he detected a definite disinterest from Jeremy on the whole topic.

Practice resumed. The tempo was almost reminiscent of Jean’s Raven days; the Trojans really, really wanted this. He could see it in Laila’s grimace, and in the tight set to Alvarez’s shoulders. Jean found himself getting caught up in it too; he stayed later, worked harder, and not because he was afraid of what would happen if he didn’t. He actually kind of wanted to see these idiots happy at the end of the day. 

More than anything, he wanted it for Jeremy. 

All Jean really needed to do was keep up with his studies and make sure he didn’t fail anything, but he found that he preferred languages to pretty much anything else on his daily agenda, so he still spent a good portion of his evening at his desk, working quietly as the light fell around him. Jeremy juggled studying with seeing his friends and flitting from suite to suite to check everyone’s nerves. And somehow he still had time to bustle along behind Jean and ping grapes at his neck.

‘Ow,’ grumbled Jean, trying to catch them. ‘Stop.’

Jeremy popped one into his own mouth before aiming another at Jean’s face. ‘Catch.’

Jean dutifully caught. He didn’t have any kind of sweet tooth, but was something of a fruit fiend. Jeremy perched on the desk next to his work and said, ‘Take a break with me.’

Jean reached for another grape, but Jeremy held one out instead, pinched between two fingers. Jean considered it, unsure of the meaning behind it. He risked a quick glance up at Jeremy and jumped when he saw something totally unfamiliar. Jeremy’s cheeks were a little flushed, but his gaze was steady. 

Jean’s heart was rattling nervously in his chest, but he managed to bite the grape out of Jeremy’s fingers. Jeremy’s mouth twisted into a little half smile, and he raised his eyebrows idly before glancing down. ‘So, you done for the night?’

Jean shut his book. ‘Can be.’

Jeremy jerked his head. ‘Come on, lets watch some tv.’

Jean followed him to the couch eagerly. Jeremy moved away to grab the remote, and Jean didn’t even try to stop himself from watching his ass. Even so, he noticed the slight wince as Jeremy bent to grab the remote, and again when he sat down next to him.

They put on some show, but Jean never had much appreciation for television. As usual, he turned his body slightly and put his arm on the back of the couch, so he could be watching Jeremy instead.

There was still a little twist of pain in Jeremy’s face that Jean couldn’t ignore. ‘What is it?’

Jeremy rubbed at his knee again. ‘Just my knee,’ he said. ‘The usual.’

‘What did Coach say about it?’

Jeremy gave a little shrug. He was wearing his usual half-smile, but the light had gone out of his eyes. 

Jean had never learned tact; just how to shut up. But speaking his mind was a particular task his therapist told him to practice daily. An atrophied muscle that needed serious work.

‘Your knee hurts almost every day,’ Jean said, slowly. ‘And you haven’t talked to any teams yet. What's up?’

Jeremy didn’t answer right away, just stare pensively ahead. His fingers tapped out a slow rhythm on his sore knee.

‘If I’m careful,’ he said, finally. ‘My knee will hold up for the final game. But after that it’ll need surgery. There’s like, no cartilage left, dude.’ He huffed a humourless little laugh. 

Jean frowned. ‘And after that?’

Jeremy shrugged. ‘That’s it. I should be able for mild gym sessions, maybe some light jogging.’

Even though he’d had his suspicions, Jean had trouble wrapping his head around it. ‘So - no pro team? No more exy?’

Jeremy shook his head, still staring off into space. ‘Nope.’

Then he glanced at Jean, and saw his expression. ‘I’ve known for a while,’ he assured him. ‘I’ve talked it over with Coach and my parents, and the doctors. There’s just no way.’

Jean stumbled around mentally, trying to find the sort of kind words that would have come effortlessly to Jeremy. The words he deserved to hear.

‘Shit,’ he said. Then, finally, ‘I’m sorry.’

Jeremy gave him a bit more of that smile. ‘Thanks. But it’s fine. Like I said, I’ve known for a while. So I’m gonna stay in school.’

Jean blinked. ‘This school - ?’

‘No, not here,’ Jeremy smiled. ‘Uh, actually.’ He dug out his phone and tapped through his email. He found what was looking for, then handed the phone to Jean.

Jean didn’t have to read the whole email. The first few lines were enough; a congratulations, you’ve been accepted, etc etc, sincerely, NYU.

‘Wow.’ Jean blinked several times. ‘Wow. Seriously?’

Jeremy’s smile was tinged with pride, and he finally looked a bit happier. ‘Yeah. More math. School that I can actually focus on, instead worrying about exy, worrying about my teammates, being the captain. I can just be another student.’

Jean reread the email. ‘You did this all by yourself? No scholarship?’

Jeremy nodded. ‘Turns out I’m kind of a genius,’ he said, solemnly. Then he cracked a grin. ‘I’ll be in debt for the rest of my life, but I don’t have to worry about that yet.’

As someone who was already in premature debt up to his eyeballs, albeit with slightly scarier sharks, Jean knew how he felt. 

‘This is …’ he brandished the phone. ‘This is impressive. How did you manage this without anyone noticing? When do you even study?’

Jeremy took the phone back, smirking. Jean could already see his mood improving. ‘Like I said,’ he replied, letting his fingers brush Jean’s. ‘I’m a genius.’ He paused. ‘Just don’t tell anyone, ok? They don’t need anything else to freak out about right now.’

Jean nodded. ‘But you told me.’

Jeremy met his eyes. ‘You’re … calm. You know, you’re like, the total opposite of when you first got here.’

Jean gave him a look, and Jeremy amended, ‘Well, a lot better, anyway. I don’t think you’re worrying about half the stuff everyone else is.’

Jean shrugged. ‘Right now, the number of people trying to kick the shit out of me or steal my spot on the team is down to zero. That’s all I really had to worry about before. Now it’s just exy, mixing up Spanish with French, and dealing with my very annoying, very distracting roommate.’

Jeremy sighed. ‘How difficult life must be. I didn’t mean to dump this all over you by the way. I just needed to tell someone, you know?’

Jean felt the weight of Jeremy’s trust, and wondered if he was worthy of it. 

Despite his lighter smiles, Jeremy clearly had a lot on his mind still. So Jean dropped the subject and let him watch tv in peace. He left his arm on the back of the couch, and didn’t say a word when Jeremy slouched down in his seat and let his head rest back against him. 

As with everything, Jean needed a little processing time to deal with this announcement. By the time several episodes of something with crime and guns had gone by, he had stopped glancing at Jeremy’s knee and wondering what their futures would look like now. 

He hadn’t told Jeremy this, but the biggest thing he’d learned at USC had been how to live again. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever really known - he had no real memories of having fun. It wasn’t that he thought he’d lose his mind out there in the world without his live-in ray of sunshine, but he didn’t particularly want to find out. For once, he wanted to pick something for himself.

That night, he sent off some emails. First, to the agency service that had been emailing him three times a week. Once they responded, they got on a call and Jean made some decisions. 

The second email was to Kevin. He’d been just as close-mouthed about pro teams, but some part of Jean that had grown up alongside Kevin understood him instinctively, like a survival instinct. So he knew the only teams he’d be interested in were the Texas Tigers and the New York Knights. Minyard and Josten were rumoured to be heading for Boston. Jean knew Kevin would stay with them if he could, but no one could afford both Neil and Kevin on the same team. 

New York was a big city, with two big teams. If Jean signed for the Wanderers, he could be playing just down the road from Kevin. It was a big rivalry that split the city down the middle. Jean wasn’t bothered about that. But he thought that Kevin deserved to know anyway.

That night, he lay awake listening to Jeremy’s quiet snores. He’d been sharing a room all his life. Adjusting to his own bedroom, empty except for himself, would just be one more thing he’d have to get used to. 

Jean didn’t do change well. He’d been lighthearted with Jeremy about his worries earlier, but he truly was freaked about being out in the world by himself for the first time.

And for once, it would be nice to be with a friend. To have someone nearby who knew him, and liked him. Did that mean he was taking the easy way out?

His phone was upside down on the table next to him, but he saw it light up. Despite the late hour, he checked it.

It was an email from Kevin. Jean hesitated for a long time before opening it, and when he did, he sat up in surprise.

_‘I’m glad. It will be nice to have a friend nearby.’_

Jean thought he’d be up for hours, pondering that, but he was unconscious before his phone had fully dimmed. 

*

The championship game rolled up before anyone was ready for it. They’d never come this far, and now it felt like the team had worked twice as hard as ever before. They’d seen off Edgar Allen for the first time ever in a resounding victory that had felt more momentous than winning the championship itself. Jean had spent the week before that particular game hyperventilating between classes, but he’d made it through with just a few extra bruises from his sour ex-teammates. When the final whistle had blown, Jeremy had knocked their helmets together, eyes bright and aflame, then hugged him hard right there on the court. 

The Foxes had continued to grow strong. Jean felt the usual nerves as they lined up in the tunnel, and a flicker of worry. He knew better than anyone how good Kevin was. And he’d never met anyone more viciously determined and stubborn than Neil Josten. 

But the Trojans had steel in them too, and enough skill to impress even Jean. And when they met the Foxes on the court and he stood opposite Kevin, he saw his own nerves and determination reflected back at him.

Neither of them could speak, but Kevin gave him a firm nod as he shook his hand. They didn't notice the crowd roaring even louder as they did so.

They took their places on the court. Up ahead, Jeremy turned around just a few seconds before the whistle, and gave Jean his gorgeous, toothy grin. 

Jean gripped his racquet tighter in response and rolled his shoulders, his heart beating a tattoo on his ribs. 

The game was completely insane. The Foxes fought like demons, but Jean would not be moved. He tracked Kevin with a determination he didn’t know he could feel. Every time he stretched for the ball or pushed himself a little harder to beat the attacker, he thought of his teammates and how hard they were working, how desperately they wanted this. Every time he saw Jeremy break into another sprint or pull off an amazing leap or catch, he thought of how every landing sent pain shooting through his knee. He had to be substituted twice to strap an ice pack to it, and each time he went off Jean was sure they’d seen the last of him, that they’d shared a court for the final time. 

But Jeremy refused to stay benched for long, and only his remarkable tenure as captain could convince Coach to let him play on. This was Jeremy’s last game. 

The crowd roared when Jeremy reappeared for the final fifteen, and the Trojans rallied yet again. Jean threw himself at Kevin, doing everything to prevent him from getting a shot off. Even knowing how badly Kevin wanted to win, he saw that he relished Jean’s attention. He never put a foot wrong; Jean refused to commit a foul, to act like the Raven people still expected him to be. He fought just as hard as Kevin, but for once he didn’t have to do it alone. He was one of the Trojans, and they fought with him. 

They won it by a point. It took Jean a minute to realise the final whistle had gone. He and Kevin drew to a slow halt next to each other, breathing heavily. Jean had never felt this exhausted, even as adrenalin still rushed through his veins. Kevin’s face was anguished, but he didn’t draw away. Before their teammates could reach them, they took a moment to lean on each other.

‘Good game,’ Jean managed. 

Kevin nodded, chest heaving. He reached over and clacked their racquets together. ‘You too.’

Then they separated. Jean figured there was only so much time Kevin could stand to look at him after losing the game by a point. Jean didn’t mind; he was already looking around for Jeremy.

He found him leaning heavily on Laila, racquet already dropped somewhere. But even though his knee must have been aching, his face was glowing. Tears streaked Laila’s face as she gripped his waist tightly; the others were hugging, crying, lifting each other up. Jean took a moment to lean on his racquet and just feel it. This rush, this pure happiness. He was apart of this; he’d done the work, been part of the team, and now he got to savour the moment. 

His eyes met Jeremy’s at last. What he saw drew him irresistibly forward, until they were standing side by side. Laila let him go, reaching for Alvarez, so Jean wrapped his arm around Jeremy’s waist and let him hold on. 

The Foxes were drifting away, and then all Jean could see was scarlet and gold. The banners were unfurled and the flags waved from every corner of the stands. As the ceremonial podium was dragged out and the trophy prepared, Jean and Connor linked Jeremy over to where the Trojans were lining up to shake hands with the Foxes. 

Neil Josten gripped his hand hand. Minyard just kind of slapped at him. Dan Wilds their captain shook his hand earnestly and with a grim smile, despite the tears pouring down her face. Jean tried to meet her gaze with the same sincerity, realising that this was her last time as a Fox. 

Kevin was last in line. When he got to Jeremy there was even something of warmth in his smile. Jeremy wouldn’t let him get away with just a handshake; he reached out and gripped Kevin’s shoulders, and said something to him in a low voice that Jean couldn’t hear. Whatever it was changed something in Kevin’s expression. Jean didn’t know if he’d ever seen Kevin look at anyone like that.

Then Kevin stepped up to Jean. The other Foxes had already left the field, and it seemed to Jean that the crowd had fallen silent. 

He reached out and took Kevin’s hand. Kevin gripped it hard, eyes tight. Feeling a sudden rush of emotion, Jean stepped forward. Kevin inclined his head until their foreheads touched. It was only for a moment, but in that moment Jean wondered wildly where Kevin would go next. He had Jeremy; they would be in the same city, still in each other’s lives. Where would Kevin go? Would there be someone on his side, who he could trust and confide in? Who would keep his nightmares at bay? 

He tried to return to the present, to this happy moment surrounded by the people who had accepted him. He’d lashed out at all of them at one point or another, and now they were hugging him and clapping him on the back. 

One by one, the Trojans approached the podium to receive their medals. Jean hung on to Jeremy until his name was called. The crowd roared its appreciation, and Jean hoped wildly that he’d made them proud. 

Laila followed him as Vice Captain, and then it was Jeremy’s turn. He was limping badly, but his grin was unwavering. Jean had to laugh; he simply couldn’t look any less delighted than Jean knew he was. 

With a rush of pride, Jean stood back and watched Jeremy lift the trophy. The stadium was loud enough that he couldn’t distinguish any individual sounds. It was just a wall of noise, screaming their appreciation. Jeremy stood tall, trophy held over his head, not a trace of pain or exhaustion. 

Jean felt like everything was moving in slow motion. He looked around him, an amazed smile on his face, as his teammates cheered and laughed and cried. Jeremy had been quick to pass the trophy off to Laila, who shrieked like a warrior before raising it above her head. Jeremy turned, using someone’s racquet as a crutch. Jean’s eyes immediately found his, like Jeremy had said his name in his ear. 

Jeremy’s eyes were blazing, and the smile on his face looked like it was there just for Jean. Jean gazed back, feeling something grip his heart like a vice and rob him of breath. 

When the trophy was passed to him, the weight was brand new. No one but Riko had ever been permitted to lift the Edgar Allen cup. Now Jean hefted this thing that he had worked for and won, and wondered what it meant to him. 

The trophy was gratifying, but the work was where he’d found his reward. 

The crowd roared as Jean stepped forward. He pressed his lips to the trophy for a brief second, the metal cool beneath his touch. Then he raised it over his head and closed his eyes, and let himself feel everything.

*

Late that night, after far too much alcohol had been consumed, Jean found himself lying top to toe on his bed with Jeremy. They weren’t alone; Laila was out in the living room on their couch, curled around the trophy like a baby. Alvarez was on the ground next to her. Connor, Tori, and Scott were crammed into Jeremy’s bed, limbs sticking out at all angles. No one wanted to separate after the win. Eventually the exhaustion had gotten the better of them, with people collapsing where they stood.

Jean had one hand on Jeremy’s bad knee. It had spent the night wrapped in ice, and now it was strapped tight. Jean was massaging it gently. Jeremy’s hand rested on Jean’s ankle.

‘Have you decided what you’re going to do next?’ Jeremy asked, voice thick with tiredness and alcohol. He patted Jean’s ankle. ‘I know you’ve had offers.’

Jean’s hand moved slowly across Jeremy’s knee. He was careful not to rub too deep, just enough to chafe warmth back into his cold skin.

‘I have had offers,’ Jean replied, lazily. Though he was tired, he was quite enjoying the present circumstances. ‘Tampa, Denver … and New York.’

He felt Jeremy’s attention sharpen. ‘The Wanderers?’

‘Mm.’

‘And …’ Jeremy paused, cleared his throat. ‘Have you accepted anyone?’

Jean was suddenly glad that Jeremy couldn’t see his face. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘To be honest, I kinda like being your roommate. I thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if that continued.’

For a few moments there was silence, but for their teammates drunken snores, and Jean wondered if he’d gotten it wrong.

‘Do you mean that?’

‘About New York?’

‘All of it.’ Jeremy’s hand was suddenly tighter on his ankle. ‘New York … living together.’

Jean’s heart felt absurdly light in his chest. He wrapped his hand around Jeremy’s calf so he didn’t float right off the bed.

‘You know, I’ve never lived anywhere but a school since I was 8 years old,’ he said. ‘I lived in a house, before. A big house, I think. More like a museum than a home. It was cold, even in summer. And since then it’s just been dorms, schools, halls.’ He paused, running his hand over Jeremy’s leg. 'It would be nice to live with a friend. Somewhere … that I could make a real home out of.’

Jeremy sat up suddenly. Jean glanced up in surprise, then struggled upright to face him. Jeremy’s face was intent, all traces of tiredness gone.

‘Jean,’ he said. ‘I want to be your friend forever. And I’m really drunk right now but I don't want to start next part of my life without you. I feel like - like I only just met you, and I can't let you go yet. But also like ... you know, like I've known you forever?’

He reached out and grabbed Jean’s hand. Jean could only grip his tightly in response; he was utterly robbed of speech.

‘You and me,’ Jeremy said. Then, ‘And maybe one or two others. I really have no money.’

Jean laughed helplessly. ‘Whatever you want,’ he said. ‘I quite like company now.’

Jeremy nodded. ‘We’ll figure it out together. Tomorrow. When I am not drunk.’ Then he grinned. ‘I’m so happy, dude. Are you happy?’

Jean was. He didn’t have the words to say it, but contentment was settling deep into his bones like the truest warmth. 

Instead of trying to fumble with his clumsy words, Jean sat all the way up and then swung his legs around. He hesitated for the briefest of moments, before lying down on the bed again, this time with his head on the same pillow as Jeremy’s. 

They rolled over on to their sides, and Jean once again took a moment to appreciate Jeremy’s warm eyes, his kind face. He knew suddenly that he could say anything to Jeremy - anything at all - and he would be listened to, and taken seriously. 

‘I have to warn you,’ Jean said, softly. ‘I’m not easy to live with.’

Jeremy smiled goofily at him. ‘No, really?’

Jean gave him a tiny smile. ‘I’m serious. You already know I have nightmares. I get cold easily, so I always need to have the heat on. And I’m afraid of the dark.’

Jeremy nodded. ‘I know it hasn’t been easy for you,’ he said, softly. ‘I know you’ve still got work to do. But I’m here for you, Jean. Just like I know you’re here for me.’

He paused, and Jean wondered if he was thinking about his surgery, which was scheduled for next week.

‘I will be,’ Jean said. ‘I suppose I owe you that much.’

Jeremy rolled his eyes. ‘You don’t owe me anything, Jean.’

Jean met his eyes. ‘I do.’

Jeremy fell silent, his eyes quiet and serious. Then he reached out and gripped Jean’s hand again.

‘I’m very thankful that Kevin Day decided you’d be better off with us,’ he whispered. 

Jean said, ‘So am I.’ Then, ‘Maybe we should send him a fruit basket.’

Jeremy’s gave a little laugh. ‘I wonder where he’ll end up.’

Jean thought he knew, but didn’t want to change the subject.

‘We’ll talk about it in the morning,’ Jeremy murmured. Jean could see he was finally drifting off to sleep, so he let him go. They are still holding hands loosely. Jean didn’t want to think too deeply about anything said or done while under the influence, so he allowed himself to just enjoy the moment. Sharing a bed with his best friend, a shared triumph between them, slowly falling asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunday updates? Sunday updates.

The following week brought much discussion and change. 

First, there was press to do. Every exy publication and blog wanted an interview, a photo, a quote. Jeremy, Laila, and Jean were all in high demand, along with Alvarez and Connor for setting up and scoring the winning point, respectively. They were still celebrating the win, but the realities of life were coming at them hard. Finals still had to be sat, papers written, and decisions made. 

For Jean’s own part, when he wasn’t being interviewed or studying, he was reading emails and taking calls from his new agent, a very efficient and slightly scary woman named Stephanie. They’d had a very long video call the day after the championship game, and she hadn’t batted an eyelid had told her about his salary conditions and how he won’t have as much money as other athletes. 

‘I’ve heard weirder,’ she said. ‘Our fees are proportionate to your earnings. Don’t forget, you’ll start earning from endorsements and sponsorships soon. That all depends on how well you play, of course. But no one has any doubts about you on that front.’

Jean, personally, had some doubts, but the agency had come recommended by Kevin’s father, who’d been scouting for one that wouldn’t baulk at things like “mob boss payments’ and “severe PTSD”. So he decided to check that off his to-do list and not worry about it anymore.

With his agent now sorted, Jean turned to the mountain of paperwork to be read through and signed in order for him to become an official New York Wanderers player. Stephanie had already gone through it and sent him a summary, along with the relevant signing pages, but Jean had come too far to sign his life away by accident now because he hadn’t fully read the fine print. He was notoriously paranoid about missing something, and sat up late into the night reading through the whole thing.

‘You’ll give yourself a squint,’ Jeremy said. He limped into the bedroom and turned on the bedside lamp. Jean had started reading when it was still bright out.

‘Sorry,’ Jean said, rubbing the pinched feeling away from between his eyes. ‘I’m almost done.’

Jeremy shrugged. ‘Take your time,’ he said. ‘Hey, have you had a chance to look at any more apartments?’

They had decided on at least one more person to move in with, depending on what kind of place they could find. They were now entering a world of bills and rent, and agreed that it would be best not to have to live like paupers if they could help it. 

Besides, Jean wasn’t sure what living with just Jeremy would mean. This move and new beginning was going to be stressful enough as it was, without having to wonder if they were living together or _living together_.

He shook his head and scrubbed a hand across his face. When had his worries become so … small?

‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘Do you have a minute? Let's do it now.’

They moved out to the living room, turning on lights as they went. Jean kept noticing little things around their small shared suite that he would miss, and ran his hand idly along the back of their comfy old armchair as Jeremy went into the kitchen and fetched last night’s Chinese food.

They browsed ad listings until they were both glaring at the screen, but finally they had a shortlist. Emails were sent and a list was made.

‘Hopefully we can fill the third bedroom ourselves,’ Jeremy said, stretching. ‘If we cover the first and last of the third room. Which I can do with my loan, so I guess we don’t have to worry about that right now. God, living is expensive.’

Jean agreed, but knew that it would be worth it. The last thing they wanted was to be stuck with some exy-crazed super fan.

‘We’ll be fine,’ he said, more confidently than he felt. 

Jeremy grinned. ‘I’m glad you think so.’

Jeremy’s operation was to be done under anaesthetic, so he would be spending the night in hospital. That night, after receiving confirmation that Jeremy had indeed survived his ordeal, he tossed and turned for hours, hating the silence. It wasn’t that Jeremy was a particularly loud sleeper, but just knowing that he wasn’t anywhere near him was enough to be unsettling.

When he fell asleep, it was near dawn. Feeling like he deserved it, he turned off his alarm and rolled over. There was no practice to get to, and only one class in the afternoon. Though his mental clock was telling him it was time to exercise, he didn’t have the energy to argue with himself.

When he awoke again, Jeremy was sitting on the edge of his bed. ‘Morning,’ he said, cheerily. ‘Or afternoon, actually.’

Jean rolled over and blinked up at him. ‘What?’ Oh.’

He sat up quickly, then looked down at Jeremy’s knee. ‘How is it? How are you?’

‘Fine, and fine,’ Jeremy said. ‘All fine. Lots of physical therapy in my future, but I’ll be back kicking your ass pretty soon.’

Jean sighed. ‘Well, thank god for that.’

‘Why are you still in bed?’

Jean shrugged, a little embarrassed. ‘Didn’t sleep so well.’

Jeremy frowned. ‘How come?’

Jean was surprised, and a little disheartened, that Jeremy didn’t know and he would now have to tell him.

‘’m not used to it,’ he said. ‘The only times I have slept alone are when I was … unwell.’

He meant, of course, his time at the home of the Palmetto doctor after he’d been attacked. And the times before that, when he’d been briefly hospitalised after a few of Riko’s more vicious little games. Not good memories.

Jeremy heard the meaning behind his words, and his face softened. ‘Oh, of course,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry.’

Jean shook his head. ‘I’m a big boy,’ he said, lightly. ‘Besides, I need the practise.’

Jeremy frowned, and then his expression cleared. ‘Oh.’

He glanced away, a strange trace of awkwardness in his movements. It was almost like he too was reluctant to have his own room, though Jean couldn’t imagine why that would be true.

The days marched on, turning into weeks. Finals arrived - Jean thought he would go blind from studying - and then it was time to graduate.   
There came a period of darkness for Jean, then. No matter how far he had come, no matter how different he was now to the person he’d been before, Jean had never planned to live beyond this day. In ever version of his life, this was where he ended. Planning for the future was a dream, one he still didn’t quite believe was going to happen. 

He spent the day in a daze. Somehow he made it across the stage and accepted his diploma, dissociating the whole way. He didn’t fully clip back into reality until later that day, when he’d shed the cap and gown and packed his diploma carefully away. It was proof that he’d survived. Tangible, something he could read and trust when his own mind threatened to go dark on him again.

Their bags were packed; their plane was the day after tomorrow. Tonight, they said goodbye to USC. Jeremy had introduced him to his family earlier - his warm mother and jovial father, so like him. Jeremy had his father’s nose and his mothers eyes. His three sisters had also made the trip - they looked like Jeremy with longer hair and more eyelashes, and had given Jean the same toothy smile he’d often found himself daydreaming about. It had been a little strange, actually.

There was only so long Jean could pretend to be normal on this day, so after a while he’d made his polite excuses and retreated to the quiet of the dorm where he could have a more private breakdown. That was when Kevin had called him; for a moment, Jean stared in confusion at his phone and wondered if he himself had actually called Kevin instead. He’d been thinking about him on and off all day.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

Just checking in,’ Kevin replied, a little irritably.

Jean smiled, leaning back on the couch. ‘Checking to make sure I’m still alive, you mean?’

Kevin huffed. ‘I didn’t think - I mean, you’re doing loads better now. But I just …’

‘I get it,’ Jean said, quietly. ‘It’s been on my mind too.’

‘You don’t sound like you’re celebrating,’ Kevin said. 

‘Neither do you.’ Palmetto graduation was the same day.

‘Well, it’s later here,’ Kevin pointed out. ‘I’ve, uh, already celebrated.’

Now that he was listening properly, he could hear the slight slur to Kevin’s words.

‘You take it easy,’ he warned, softly. He paused for a moment, considering. ‘So, when are you moving up to New York?’

Kevin grumbled half-heartedly. ‘Few weeks. Got some things to take care of here first, but I settled it with the Coach. You?’

‘Day after tomorrow.’

‘Nervous?’

Jean sighed loudly. ‘Fuck, I am.’

Kevin laughed harshly. ‘You’ll be fine. At least you’re not alone.’

Jean weakened. ‘You’re not either,’ he said. ‘We’ll be around. Just - call me. Whenever.’

Kevin went quiet for a minute. Then he said, ‘Do you mean that?’

Jean frowned. ‘Yes?’

Kevin gave a frustrated sigh. ‘Are you sure? I know I - I left you. And I don’t - ‘

This was drunk Kevin talking, so Jean cut him off quickly. ‘Kevin, shut up,’ he said. ‘We’re not going to have this fight again. I forgive you. Please, call me.’

Kevin hesitated. ‘I will,’ he said, voice oddly soft. ‘Jean …’

Jean waited, but Kevin just said his name again, once. 

‘I’m here,’ Jean said, not knowing what else to say. ‘I’m ok. We’re ok.’

Kevin’s breathing was shaky; Jean wished he could tell him to go sleep it off, but somehow he really didn't want to push Kevin away right now.

So he stayed on the line with him, letting the minutes turn into an hour, then two. He lay down on the couch, phone resting in his palm. He could hear Kevin breathing quietly on the other end. For years, this had been the only thing that had comforted him. He had never been allowed to share a room with Kevin - Kevin had always been Riko’s toy - but they’d found solace and security just being near each other. Jean still remembered the rhythms of Kevin’s body, how he moved, the minutiae of his expressions. And he still managed to annoy the holy hell out of him.

Finally, Kevin’s breathing deepened to sleep rhythm. He and Jean had spent nights together before; risking the comfort of closeness when Riko had been away on business with his family. Jean hadn’t dared get into Riko’s bed, so he and Kevin would double up, whispering in French. Jean taught him everything he remembered, and what they didn’t know they just made up. After a while they got too big to fit in the same bed, but it didn’t matter. Kevin would throw his leg over Jean’s and pull him close. It had been a long time ago, but Jean wondered if Kevin still remembered.

He must have dozed off after that. The suite door opening and then closing jerked him back to wakefulness. A soft thump as his phone tipped out of his hand and landed on the carpet. 

‘Hey.’ Jeremy was calling for him, stepping out of his shoes and taking off his suit jacket. Jean’s was draped over the back of the couch, and his shirt was surely creased beyond all recognition.

He sat up, feeling a little groggy. He reached down for his phone, but Jeremy beat him to it. He glanced at the screen, then gave Jean a little frown. ‘Everything ok?’

The call was still ongoing. Two hours, thirty eight minutes. Jean hung up quickly.

‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘All good.’

‘How is he?’

Jean drew a knee up close to his chest. ‘I’m … not sure. Ok, I hope. Or, he will be.’

Jeremy sat down next to him. Jean knew he should ask him how the rest of his day went, if his family had left yet. It had been a really big day for Jeremy. Jean knew that there was a logical reason for people to be emotional leaving school, even if he was feeling different emotions right now. Jeremy looked tired, and his eyes were a little red, but he was smiling. 

‘I was looking for you,’ he said. 

‘Is your family gone?’

‘Yeah. But there’s still the fireworks. They're starting soon. Will you come?’

Fireworks were something he’d only seen occasionally on television. So, Jean tried to shake off the end of his unscheduled nap, and his call with Kevin, as he followed Jeremy up to the roof of the main building. When they got there they found it mobbed by athletes drinking out of red plastic cups. People waved and greeted them, and handed them drinks. Jean quickly put his down on the nearest surface. 

Everyone was gathering over at the edge, but Jean shoved his hands into his pockets and hung back. It was a warm summer’s night, but he tugged his coat tighter. He was still wearing his dress shoes and pants, but the jacket was part of his Trojans uniform; a darker red than their uniforms, with gold accents. 

The fireworks began. Some of the Trojans, already drunk and teary, were leaning on each other and crying. Jean wondered if Jeremy was feeling emotional, if he’d like to lean on him. 

The fireworks certainly were something to look at. Jean tilted his head back and enjoyed the lights, and everyone’s oohs and aahs. He only looked down when Jeremy’s fingers brushed his.

It was a light touch. Jean thought for a moment that it was unintentional. But then he did it again; a brush of his finger tips against Jean’s. They lingered, moving slowly against him. It sent a powerful shiver up Jean’s spine. Just this tiny movement made him catch his breath. 

Jeremy moved a little closer. His hand moved too, fingers sliding down the length of Jean’s until their palms were pressed together. After that, it was a simple matter to just link their fingers together until Jean could feel his blood pounding against Jeremy’s skin.

Holding hands, watching some fireworks. Diploma in his suitcase, signed papers already sent to his agent, confirming one part of his future. Jean felt giddy. He stroked Jeremy’s thumb with his own, because that was apparently something he was allowed to do now. He’d spent a long time wondering about the shape and feel of Jeremy’s fingers. They were long and slim, with prominent knuckles, and the same calluses as Jean had from playing exy all his life.

They stood together and watched the fireworks, and Jean thought this might be his first purely happy moment. 

Then, during a particularly loud barrage of fireworks, he felt Jeremy take a deep breath. There was no chance of being able to hear him over the noise, but Jean turned his head anyways, leaning down so that he might hear.

Instead of speaking, Jeremy kissed him. 

It was quick. One single press of the lips. Just enough time for Jean to kiss him back.

Jeremy broke the kiss first. Jean was too dazed to see straight, but when his vision cleared he saw a soft, anxious expression.

But all he had to do to clear that was give Jeremy a little smile. After that, the fireworks weren’t for shit.

*

They didn’t exactly talk about it the next day. They were very busy finishing packing and saying goodbye to everyone. Jean mostly just let other people say goodbye to him, and spent the rest of the time trying not to scream.

Every now and then, he’d catch Jeremy’s eye or brush up against him in the hall, and it would be like that kiss all over again. Jean found himself drifting off at different times, thinking about it again. In the shower, or while he made coffee. His mind would wander all the way back to Jeremy’s strong hands, and the way the fireworks made stars in his eyes. The memory of their kiss …

And then Jean would shake himself and wonder when and how he’d become so completely pathetic.

They shared their last meal at USC with Laila and Alvarez. It was more celebratory, as though they’d finally shed all of their tears. Jean himself had to admit he was, if not excited, then certainly curious. Afterwards, Jeremy left to deliver something to Coach Rhemann and his family - “and probably cry in his arms,” said Alvarez - and Jean decided to take a last walk around campus. This turned into several walks around campus as he tried to convince himself that he wasn’t making a huge, irreparable mistake. 

Going to Edgar Allen hadn’t been his idea. Neither was going to USC. He hadn’t had any say in the way his personal relationship with the Moriyamas had turned into a strictly business one. And yeah, technically he was still alive and well. But if this failed … well, it was on him.

Jean wasn’t sure if he was even qualified to make decisions about his own life anymore. 

He returned to their suite late, and for the last time. If it had just been him, he would have stayed wandering all night, inhaling the last of the warm California night air and the last day where he was still a student, still under someone’s care and authority. After today, he wouldn’t be answering to Coach Rhemann anymore. 

If Jean had to stop a few times to stave off a panic attack, well that was just no one’s business but his own. 

But he did have someone else relying on him. He was sure that Jeremy was just waiting for him to have a full child-of-trauma breakdown any day now, and it wouldn’t be fair to him if Jean disappeared the night before their big move.

Their suite looked incredibly bare and empty. The building inspector had been by that day - they’d passed with flying colours, of course - and now their suitcases were lined up just inside the door. They weren’t bringing much - Jean had hardly anything. He’d get all new gear with the Wanderers, and he only owned a small drawer’s worth of clothing and shoes, a few toiletries, and one or two personal items. Jean had been careful to hoard what little money he had; even though 80% of his total earnings would go to the Moriyamas, he was still looking forward to having a little spending money. 

Jeremy was sitting up in bed. Apart from his phone charger, their backpacks, and tomorrow’s clothes, their room was empty. Jean didn’t like it.  
‘Where you been?’ Jeremy asked casually, glancing up. 

Jean grimaced. ‘Just clearing my head.’ He resisted the urge to apologize. ‘How was Coach?’

Jeremy smiled to himself. ‘The usual. We were reliving the glory days.’

Jeremy watched idly as Jean got ready for bed. He tried not to feel like each movement and action was was momentous in some way; the last of this, the last of that. Finally they were both lying down with the light off, and there was absolutely nothing to distract them from reality. No fireworks, no friends, no alcohol, no overwhelming tiredness. Unfortunately, Jean had never felt more awake in his life.

‘You ready for tomorrow?’ Jeremy asked.

‘I guess.’

‘Nervous at all?’

‘A little.’

‘Excited?’

‘Kind of.’

‘Mad that I kissed you?’

Jean opened his mouth, then closed it again. ‘I’m not mad,’ he said. ‘Definitely not mad.’

Jeremy hesitated. ‘But …?’

Jean had been mulling it over all day. ‘This is very new territory,’ he admitted. ‘I’m worried about messing it up. And we are just about to do this very big thing together, you know?’

‘I know.’ Jeremy sighed. Jean stared resolutely at the ceiling. ‘It was … impulsive. And I don’t regret it, by the way. But the next few weeks are going to be a big adjustment for us both. I guess that’s what we should be focusing on.’

It was odd to feel both relief and disappointment at the same time. 

‘Yes,’ Jean said. ‘You’re right.’ He paused, thinking about it. ‘It was a good kiss, though.’

A tiny noise of amusement. ‘I’m glad that this won’t change,’ Jeremy said. 

It wouldn’t, Jean vowed. He was keeping this no matter what.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday, time for things to get steamy

Jean and Jeremy moved through the airport like a well-oiled machine. Jean barely realised that they were following their usual exy travel pattern until they found themselves at the power smoothie stand, their stomachs telling them what to do.

‘Old habits,’ Jeremy said, with a grin.

The flight was long, but uneventful. Jean took two airsick tablets and promptly passed out, waking up again when the wheels hit the tarmac. Jeremy, looking as neat and well-rested as ever, dropped a little packet into his lap. ‘I saved you the pretzels.’

Their new home was in Queens. Jean had wondered if Jeremy wouldn’t prefer to live closer to NYU, or in student accommodation, but Jeremy had wrinkled his nose at the suggestion. ‘I don’t want to live with kids,’ he said. ‘I’m a big boy now.’

So, Queens it was. Jean immediately felt like this was a place he could be anonymous in. After the landlord had let them in, handed over the keys, and given them a stern talking to about security deposits and noise levels, it was just them and their suitcases and a whole lot more space than they had anticipated.

‘Well, it’s for three people,’ Jean said, reasonably.

‘ _Still_ ,’ Jeremy emphasised, looking around. ‘Your agent must be a wizard.’

‘I’m told she has ways,’ Jean said, lightly. ‘Bet you’re wishing you took that vacation instead of early admission.’

Jeremy grinned at him. ’Last one to unpack’s a rotten egg?’

As usual, Jeremy turned work into fun. They flipped a coin for the biggest bedroom (Jean won, Jeremy laughing at the expression on his face) and cheerfully left the smallest room for their future roommate.

‘It does have good light, though,’ Jeremy said, eyeing it up.

‘Sleep on it,’ Jean suggested. ‘Or, in it.’

Jeremy chose the bigger bedroom in the end. ‘More room for activities.’

The afternoon had slipped away from them. They made their first foray outside into the world for dishes and towels and other household items. Jean was fervently glad to have Jeremy with him for this, because instead of the enormously stressful situation he would have made for himself, they wound up in hysterics in almost every section of IKEA.

‘Are you _sure_ you don’t want bunk beds?’ Jeremy asked again, somehow with a straight face. 

‘I will leave you here,’ Jean groaned quietly, bending over their trolley to hide his red face from curious shoppers. 

‘Sheets,’ Jeremy announced, in the bedroom section. He pulled one set out, causing six more sets to tumble down around him. ‘Oh sheet.’

Jean had to pull his sweater up over his mouth and turn away to hide his grin.

They got silly in the kitchen section too. Jean, who was thoroughly lost at this point, had been given the task of choosing their plates and bowls. After careful consideration he selected three of each and returned to Jeremy and their trolley, feeling accomplished. When Jeremy gave him a strange look, he got defensive.

‘No, I like them,’ Jeremy said quickly. ‘But … three plates?’

‘There are three of us.’

Jeremy looked like he was trying very hard not to smile. ‘Yes, true. But what happens if we have friends over for dinner?’

Jean paused. ‘Oh.’

Jeremy was grinning now. ‘It’s ok,’ he said, taking his arm and pulling him back towards the plates. ‘We can just tell people to bring their own.’

‘Why don’t we forgo dishes entirely,’ Jean suggested. ‘And just eat with our hands, straight out of the pot?’

They examined the offerings on display with a critical eye.

‘We should get extra,’ Jean said, pointing. ‘I know how you are with plates.’

‘I’m not that bad.’

‘Butterfingers,’ Jean said, delicately.

‘That’s slander.’

‘I have it on good authority.’

‘How can you abuse my good name in front of the FÄRGRIK?’

‘Oh, Jeremy,’ Jean said indulgently, patting his shoulder and reaching for the plates. ‘Your name is mud in the dish world.’

They split the receipt down the middle, cursing their hypothetical roommate for not paying his share, and bought hot dogs on the way out to keep them going.

‘This is the longest I’ve gone without eating since Virginia,’ Jean said, very much enjoying this treat.

Jeremy snorted. ‘This is the longest I’ve gone without eating probably ever.’ 

They journeyed home from Brooklyn, making several wrong turns because Jeremy insisted he knew the way without looking at his phone. 

‘This is terrible,’ Jean pronounced, sitting on someone’s front steps while Jeremy finally consulted Google Maps. ‘We probably live two minutes away but you’re leading us in circles.’

‘If you would like to be our guide then be my guest,’ Jeremy replied.

‘But then who would carry the bags?’

Another wrong turn. Jean had to really fight back a smile as Jeremy scratched his head. ‘Are you sure you can read?’

‘Stop. I really need to pee.’ Jeremy sighed. ‘This is all Gary’s fault.’

‘Who?’

‘Our other roommate. I’ve decided to blame everything that goes wrong on him.’

Jean handed Jeremy a bag and took the phone. ‘So, Gary’s fault,’ he mused, consulting the map. ‘Ah … ok, I know it now.’

It turned out they really did live two minutes away, and had walked past their building twice.

‘Are you _sure_?’ Jeremy asked again.

Jean held up their key. ‘Let’s check.’

Five minutes later they were in the elevator, laughing at each other and taking Gary’s name in vain. Jeremy almost kicked down the door so he could use the bathroom, and Jean sunk on to their slightly squashy couch feeling very tired but unreasonably happy.

Despite dwindling funds they ordered pizza for dinner and ate it on the floor of the living room, because their table was covered in things they were too tired to unpack. 

‘We did ok,’ Jeremy said, leaning back against the wall and patting his flat stomach. ‘When do you have to report to the Wanderers again?’

Jean contemplated another slice of pizza. ‘Uh, Monday,’ he said. ‘But I’m meeting my agent tomorrow.’

‘Nervous?’

Jean didn’t bother dignifying that with a response; it was a given that he was nervous. He wished suddenly that he could just abandon it all and hole up here playing house with Jeremy forever.

‘So you have the weekend off,’ Jeremy said. ‘Your last weekend of freedom. You wanna do some sightseeing?’

‘Sure.’ Hanging out with Jeremy in any context was better than anything else he would ever come up with.

Their apartment didn’t have anything fancy like a balcony or decent rooftop, but it did have some very nice, large windows overlooking their street and a little park. They split a bottle of cheap wine and drank it sitting beside those windows, feeling at once nervous and excited to be out in the world on their own. At least, that’s what Jean was feeling. He would have given anything to know what Jeremy was thinking. 

Jean found he preferred the wine, cheap though it was, over the beer he’d been drinking for the last few days of celebration. It filled him with a peculiar warmth, and his eyes began to wander over Jeremy, like they usually did when he was drinking.

‘You like that?’ Jeremy asked.

Jean startled. ‘What?’

Jeremy nodded. ‘The wine. I don’t know anything about it, but it tastes good to me.’

‘Oh - yeah …’

That night as he brushed his teeth, Jean tried to have the kind of talk with himself that he knew was required for this to work. They’d lived together for a year already, and it had been great. More than great - it had helped Jean to survive. 

And Jeremy had kissed him … 

He shook his head. It was still stupid. Jean had never been in any sort of romantic relationship before, but he had a strong feeling that he’d be terrible at it. He didn’t know anything about dates or how to be a boyfriend. The very word, when applied to him, seemed absurd. Jean would have his work cut out just trying to survive new teammates and this wolf of an agent he’d landed himself with. He’d likely be a complete mess in just a few short days. 

This would be a test, for sure. But so was everything else in Jean’s life. 

Sleep did not come easy. He’d never had his own bedroom before; never had a double bed, never slept alone. Despite the fact that he’d fully unpacked, trying to create a sense of familiarity where there was none, he felt utterly alone and bewildered in this big bed. 

He texted Kevin, wanting to connect with someone who might be feeling as unstable as he was. 

_You’ll like NY. Lots to see._

It was a lame effort, and Kevin was very quick.

_Can’t sleep?_

_Room is too quiet._

_Can’t you hear the city?_

Jean paused. He could, actually. The noise on USC campus had usually been rowdy students heading to or from the bars. Jean had focused instead on Jeremy, trying to situate himself in the present. 

Now, he tuned into the sounds of cars, sirens, and passerby's. An aircraft roared in the distance. Jean was here, he was safe, he was ready for whatever came next because he’d already survived the worst of it. 

And somewhere nearby, Jeremy was sleeping.

He texted Kevin back. _Good advice. Come for dinner when you get here?_

_Sure._

Very spur of the moment and uncharacteristic of him, but Jean thought Jeremy would be cool with it.

After a short night of very bad dreams and waking up in the middle of the bed in a panic, Jean hauled himself up and into his running clothes. It was barely light out, but sleep simply wasn’t working out for him. 

He stepped out into the hall. Jeremy’s room was at the end, on his left, and the door was firmly shut. “Gary’s” room was opposite Jean’s. The apartment smelled faintly like the pizza box sitting on top of the garbage, and was softly lit by the predawn light coming through the curtains they’d only half closed. 

Jean plotted out a route the night before on his phone and committed it to memory, but going out into the wilds by himself was another story. Jean found himself people-watching, fascinated by other humans who’d gone out in the world on their own and somehow made their way to this morning. 

_I’m gonna get like that,_ he told himself. _That’s gonna be me._

The rest of the morning passed in a pleasant fashion, as they unpacked themselves and their new furnishings. Jean was meeting his agent at 2pm. “Sharp” had been emphasised in her email. The address was their downtown office, but she had also added that he should come hungry. Jean really didn’t know what to make of that.

‘Eat,’ Jeremy insisted.

‘But she said to be hungry.’

‘Did you run 5K this morning?’

Jean made a face. ‘Of course.’

Jeremy nudged him with his shoulder. ‘Then eat. If she tries to feed you anything heavy just say you’re doing a cleanse.’

Finch & Marble had a very impressive high-rise in Midtown. Jean’s early morning glow had worn off and he didn’t much feel like interacting with the city. He slouched on the train in a denim jacket and sunglasses, wishing the tattoo on his cheek wasn’t so visible, and that he could just be another anonymous passenger. 

Arriving at Finch & Marble, he straightened his posture to compensate for the fact that he was probably underdressed. Stephanie met him in the lobby and shook his hand so firmly Jean felt a bone crack. 

‘Jean. Good to meet you.’

Her hair was a deep wine red, pinned back into a no-nonsense bun paired with gold wire-frame glasses and small square diamond earrings. Her clothes were tailored and sharp, and when they got into the elevator the two men inside it left immediately, looking vaguely apologetic. Jean made a note to thank Kevin for the recommendation; this was exactly his style.

She led him past their hall of fame, walls of signed portraits of athletes Finch & Marble had represented. Then on to a conference room where yet more papers were signed and ice water was sipped. Then Stephanie fixed him with a gaze sharp as her suit and asked, ‘Do you like steak?’

Jean found his stomach empty as they took their seats in a restaurant composed entirely of silver and steel. He tried to look like he knew what he was doing as he ordered, having never before been to a restaurant that didn’t have plastic menus and soda machines. He found that the whole process - the fancy waiters, the elegant table settings, the subtle ambiance and well-dressed clientele - to be extremely appealing to him. 

‘This suits you,’ Stephanie said, toasting him. 

‘Thank you,’ Jean replied. His first real taste of champagne. He hadn’t really wanted any - the last time he’d been near champagne was when Riko had thrown a bottle at the wall next to his head . It tasted different from a glass.

Over the next forty five minutes Stephanie said everything required to make Jean want to trust her with his life and future. She had no time for bullshit, and cuttingly said that she had ways to get in and around the wage tithes imposed on him by the Moriyamas.

‘And I had a look at that document they sent over,’ she said, slicing her stake like a professional. ‘They only stipulate 80% for the first year. After that it’s a percentage of your wage based on how much the club pays you, before bonuses. And it doesn’t include endorsements or sponsorship deals or anything else you choose to do outside of strictly playing exy. Give me a little time and I’ll be able to wriggle you out of even more.’

Jean didn’t know how comfortable he was with that, but Stephanie assured him she’d seen worse.

‘Now, tell me about any skeletons in the closet,’ she said, once the cheesecake arrived. ‘You’re small fry now, but there’s already a lot of buzz about you in the Pro leagues, particularly given your own fan base who will follow you. It’s better to tell me up front so we can be prepared.’

Jean shrugged. ‘Nothing beyond what I’ve already told you,’ he said. 

He hadn’t quite spilled all the family secrets, but Kevin had advised him to be as honest as he could with her. A difficult task for Jean.

‘New York is new for you,’ Stephanie said. ‘Lots of new experiences. Should you find yourself sampling any … unusual activities, I urge you to tell me. Or at least send me the receipts. I don’t need details, just forewarning.’

Jean prayed for deliverance. ‘I’m not interested in … anything like that.’

‘And your preferences in general?’ She eyed him frankly. ‘The Wanderers are a pretty progressive club, but the league itself is … well, you know. It’s easier to be straight, but we can help you be gay if that’s what you want.’

Jean considered the fact that Neil Josten would likely upstage them all in that regard. ‘I’m a private person,’ he said. ‘Maybe, in a year or two, if there is more interest, more, uh, fan interaction. For now, I just want to play.’

Partial truths, but he wasn’t hiding anything important. He didn’t have a desire to post romantic photos on Instagram or hold hands with anyone in public, even if he did have someone to do it with. Out of all his potential problems, having his nudes leaked on Twitter thankfully wasn’t one of them.

Throughout the entire afternoon - which included a few more glasses of really excellent red wine - Stephanie revealed exactly nothing about herself, but Jean found himself talking a lot more than he had to anyone who wasn’t Jeremy. In fact, he talked a lot about Jeremy. Stephanie smiled and let him talk, but he could see her calculating. 

Before they parted, she took his hand firmly and looked him in the eye. 

‘Jean,’ she said. ‘Before you go, I want you to know two things. First, if you’re ever in trouble - with the cops, in the hospital, with a guy, with a girl, if you’re lost - I am the person who gets you out of it. Unless you’re literally bleeding from the neck you call me first, every time. Ok?’

Jean nodded.

‘Second.’ She smiled, and it was different from her calculating, mathematicians smile. ‘I’m your friend. And I have your absolute best interests at heart. If you do well, I do well.’ 

Stephanie paused, considering him. ‘And I like you, Jean. You’re nice, and you’ve had a shitty life up until now. I want to help you get yours for once.’

Jean travelled home in a happy, slightly drunk daze. _Home_ , he thought, dreamily. Where Jeremy was. Where he would sleep tonight, safe. 

Someone was actually looking out for him. 

Jean gave a stranger on the train a cheery smile as he disembarked, and didn’t even flinch at the man loitering by the door, flaccid penis in hand. 

‘Sad penis man was at the station again,’ he announced as soon as he got in the door. 

‘I hung up with my mother literally thirty seconds ago,’ Jeremy said, looking up at him from the couch. ‘If she heard you say that she’d be booking me a flight home.’

Jean leaned on the back of the couch and rested his head on his folded arms. ‘What did you do today?’

Jeremy leaned in and sniffed delicately. ‘What did _you_ do?’ he asked, grinning. ‘Was it a boozy lunch?’

Jean knew he was smiling more than was reasonable or appropriate. ‘Yes.’

‘Did you have fun?’

‘I did.’

‘Do you need to take a nap?’

‘Mm. Yes.’

Jeremy laughed as Jean hauled himself over the back of the couch and dropped his head into Jeremy’s lap. ‘Comfy?’ he asked, looking down at him.

‘Am I too heavy?’ Jean mumbled.

There was a pause. Then, a soft ‘No.’

Jean drifted off almost immediately, without really meaning to. He didn’t think he would sleep, but he was so comfortable and relaxed that he did fade away for a time. 

When he returned, he couldn’t understand why he felt so deliciously satisfied. Something was making him feel good; he arched his back a little and curled his toes. As he woke up more, he identified the source of his comfort as Jeremy’s fingers carding through his hair and gently scratching his scalp.

The wine was still coursing lazily through him, so this realisation didn’t spike his heartbeat like it might have. Jean stretched his body, pushing his head into Jeremy’s hands. 

‘Hello,’ Jeremy said, quietly.

‘I didn’t mean to fall asleep.’

Jeremy bopped his nose with a finger. ‘That’s ok.’

Jean reached up and caught his hand. Without thinking too hard about it, he pulled Jeremy’s palm to his mouth.  
He both heard and felt Jeremy’s sharp intake of breath. His stomach hitched behind Jean’s head. 

Jean held on to his hand a moment longer, enjoying the soft press of his palm and the scent of his wrist. Then he let him go, and sat up slowly, swinging his legs around to the front until they were sitting next to each other, bodies tilted, eye to eye. Jean’s hair was rumpled; Jeremy’s cheeks were flushed.

‘I’m sorry,’ Jean managed. 

Jeremy shook his head mutely. His eyes were so wide, so deeply brown. Jean got lost in them with very little trouble.

 _You’re drunk,_ Jean reminded himself.

To Jeremy, he said, ‘Do you want to spend some time with me today?’ _Damn it._

Jeremy nodded, still silent. When Jean leaned in, however, he drew back. His eyes were still wide, but there was a glint of mischief in them now. 

‘Sightseeing?’ he suggested. His demeanour was very cool and calm, but his voice certainly was not. He swallowed. ‘We could go to the Empire State Building. I hear it’s quite a view.’

Jean tilted his head, learning to follow these cues. ‘That sounds like fun.’

Jeremy nodded, finally giving him a hint of that smile. ‘Well, how about you go shower and brush your teeth so you escorted off the premises. I’ll make you some coffee.’

Jean wasn’t quite sober when they finally hit the streets that evening, but he took some Advil against the dull headache growing at his temples and made sure his sunglasses were glued to his face. It was hard to reach for his usual bad mood when Jeremy’s eyes were bright in the late afternoon sun, and he kept blushing and smiling every time Jean glanced his way. 

That feeling, Jean thought, was better than alcohol.

Despite their late start, they crammed a lot of sight-seeing into the day. He let Jeremy lead the way, and got to see Rockefeller square and Grand Central Station and a bit of Central Park. Jeremy promised they’d come back here more often, as there was apparently a lot of it to see.

Then they went up to the top of the Empire State Building. Dusk was falling, and the city lights twinkled like stars, as though the sky had been flipped upside down. There were plenty of people around, but thankfully they were all too busy taking photos and selfies to notice the 3 on Jean’s cheek. In fact, it had been like that all day. Jean hadn’t felt one single interested look. 

‘That’s New York for you,’ Jeremy said, with a shrug, as they leaned on the railing. ‘People mind their business here.’

‘You know that from your vast experience?’ Jean asked.

Jeremy laughed. ‘Connor’s from New York, remember? He gave me the whistle stop tour after our first year at USC.’

Jean gestured around. ‘So you’ve seen all this before?’

Jeremy shrugged. ‘Well, I was younger. We more interested in buying new exy sneakers and using our fake IDs. This is my first time up here.’

They leaned companionably side by side on the little railing and planned out where they wanted to go in the coming weeks, while the city was still submerged in hot summer. They’d go to the islands, journey across the river. Live as much as they could before school and the new season began. 

They still had their responsibilities, of course. Jean would be training, and Jeremy was in the early honours program. He’d have classes, friends to meet, work to do. But it wouldn’t be business as usual. For two people who were used to a high intensity schedule, it would be as close to a summer vacation as they’d ever get.

They stayed talking long after the people who’d journeyed up with them had left. Jean had never planned for the future before; he still wasn’t comfortable with anything long term. But planning a summer with Jeremy didn’t trouble him in the slightest.

Their arms were pressed against one another, and after Jeremy was done talking with his hands he let one of them rest on Jean’s folded arm. Jean didn’t want to push anything. He wanted Jeremy - that much was abundantly clear. But he was happy to just go along and let Jeremy take charge of things for a while.

It was getting dark. Jean saw goosebumps appear on Jeremy’s forearms. He himself never left the house without a sweater, no matter the heat. Without thinking, he shrugged out of his denim jacket and put it around Jeremy’s shoulders. He glanced around as he did so, suddenly self-conscious; when he looked back, Jeremy had his head turned into the collar, eyes closed, a little smile as he inhaled.

He would have kissed him then - he was pretty sure Jeremy wanted him to - but he didn’t want anyone else to see. He and Jeremy were still figuring out how to react to each other’s intimacy; no one else deserved to see that, or to form their own conclusions about who they were to each other. 

They sloped home together, taking their time about it. Stopping off at a liquor store, Jean got them a bottle of wine and Jeremy picked up some chips. There was a heady sort of silence between them, which remained unspoken.

‘This is more than I’ve ever seen you drink,’ Jeremy said, once they were back on their couch. He was clearly appreciating the wine.

Jean shrugged. ‘It still feels like I’m … celebrating.’ He scratched his stubble, feeling thoughtful and pleasantly buzzed again. ‘Maybe we can do this on weekends. You know, if you’re staying in.

Jeremy smiled. ‘Where do you think I’ll be going?’

Jean tucked his leg up under himself. ‘Death, taxes, and Jeremy Knox makes friends,’ he said, with a quick grin. 

Jeremy scoffed, but they both knew it was true.

‘As often as we can, then,’ he amended. ‘Red wine isn’t exactly top of a Pro player’s menu anyways.’

Ah yes, we must always think of exy.

They didn’t bother with tv. Jean liked classical music, so Jeremy played some on his phone, and before he knew it they were wine drunk and waltzing slowly in their tiny living room, laughing quietly at nothing. Jean’s hand was on the small of Jeremy’s back, keeping him close; the other was intertwined with Jeremy’s.

‘You’re a good dancer,’ Jeremy murmured. His breath brushed Jean’s cheek.

‘This isn’t dancing,’ Jean said. ‘This is drunk swaying. But I’m glad you like it.’

‘Can I be very honest with you?’

‘Please do be very honest with me.’ 

Jeremy sighed. ‘I like you a lot,’ he said. ‘Like, way too much probably.’

Jean knew Jeremy was drunk. He knew his voice and tone so well that he could tell when Jeremy was feeling sleepy or grumpy or secretly sad, but especially drunk. 

But god, his heart did not give one damn about that. His heart knew that he’d been in love with Jeremy for the guts of one year, and that feeling only grew each day. 

‘It’s not too much,’ he said, losing his mind completely. His voice was coming from somewhere around his navel. ‘It could never be enough.’

Their noses brushed together. The scent of coconut and wine and desire suffused the air between them. 

‘You know, it’s been literally three days since we said we shouldn’t be doing - uh, anything like this,’ Jeremy said, a little breathless. 

They had abandoned all pretence of waltzing. Jean was running his hand up Jeremy’s back, savouring the shape of him. ‘Yes … But wouldn’t you like to know what it feels like?’

He barely got the words out of his mouth before Jeremy was kissing him. 

It was messy, but very enthusiastic. Mostly they just clung to each other, totally intoxicated by the feel and taste and scent of it all. The supreme sensation of giving in. All Jean could hear was white noise and all the blood in his body rushing south.

His single functioning brain cell was hoping that maybe they’d make out on the couch for a while. When Jeremy started pulling him towards his bedroom by his belt loops his knees almost gave way. 

Jean’s heart stopped and restarted again with each kiss. Jeremy’s hands roamed all over him, making it really hard for him to function at a basic level. He had to push him down on to the bed just to regain some control over the situation.

They were, as it turned out, way too drunk for anything complicated. Belts were unbuckled, t-shirts were discarded. Once he got Jeremy hot and wet in his hand there was only so much he could do to control himself. They rolled around like mad things, gasping into each other’s mouths, hands clutching desperately. If there was a sober Jean still in existence then he would be watching from the corner, totally embarrassed. 

The Jean currently living the moment decided it might be nice to gag on Jeremy’s cock. Or to have Jeremy’s mouth on his own. Would they have time for both options?

Predictably, they passed out after very quick handjobs. It was a poor showing from both of them; Jean would remember in future that it was a bad idea to mix wines. He was learning so much already. For instance, he knew that Jeremy had a mole on the curve of his hip bone. He also knew what his face looked like when he had an orgasm. Heady fucking days.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a big fatty for you. I love sports!!!! Anyways enjoy Jean being happy

Jean woke up naked. That was quite bizarre, and he automatically curled in on himself under the sheets to protect his decency. He felt surprisingly well-rested and satisfied, despite the fact that dawn was barely peeking through the curtains. 

When he rolled over, he realised why he felt so safe. 

Jeremy was sleeping like a baby beside him, curling on his side, one hand under his chin and the other resting on the bed between them. 

This could have - maybe should have? - been a big freak-out moment for Jean. But it was so hard to panic when Jeremy had dragged him to this bed and undressed him and touched him like that. 

Jean’s skin flushed with remembrance of those touches. For once, Jean didn’t worry about what would happen when they woke up. Lying and watching was all he wanted to do right now.

Indulgence was new to him, but it tasted fucking delicious. In the spirit of that, instead of getting up for a run he dragged himself to the bathroom to relieve himself, then returned to Jeremy’s bed and let himself fade back into sleep. 

When he woke up again, the room was full of sunshine and Jeremy was stretched out beside him, completely naked, sheets low around his hips. As Jean watched, his eyelids fluttered open and Jean got the full force of both Jeremy’s beautiful brown eyes and silly smile.

‘Good morning,’ he murmured. His voice was deep, slightly hoarse, and Jean instantly felt interest between his legs. 

_Oh boy._

Jeremy took another few minutes to wake up properly. When he did, his eyes widened. 

‘Oh, you’re naked.’ He blinked. ‘ _I’m_ naked.’

‘Yes, it’s nice,’ Jean said, helpless.

They startled giggling, and once they started they couldn’t stop. Jeremy rolled over and put his hand on Jean’s chest, and Jean ran his fingers over Jeremy’s exposed hip. In the daylight, and with a clear head, Jean saw that he hadn’t for one second appreciated anything Jeremy had to offer the night before.

‘Can I, uh …’ He shuffled his body over, but Jeremy was already leaning in.

Jean literally couldn’t think of a better way to start the day - or even just to exist. Soon he had Jeremy stretched out on top of him, hands roaming freely, absolutely crazy with desire. 

They had had vague plans for this day, but right now Jean couldn’t fathom how he’d even begin to get out of bed. Running his hands up and down Jeremy’s legs and ass and back was blowing his mind every three seconds. Then Jeremy began to kiss his way down Jean’s chest, lips passing over scars and muscle and his navel until his mouth was now in very dangerous territory. Jean’s whole body tensed up as he struggled to remember how to breathe evenly. 

‘Is this ok?’ Jeremy asked, eyes flickering up in Jean’s direction.

Jean was finding words the biggest challenge of all. Heart pounding dreadfully in his gullet, he just about managed a nod.

What followed was the best fifteen minutes of Jean’s life. In that time he astral projected from his body and forgot his name, his past, his purpose in the world. He was probably making noises like a wounded, dying boar, but there was just nothing he could do about that. 

Jeremy made him come so hard his vision went black. Every part of his body was so incredibly sensitive. Was he whimpering? He could barely breathe normally.

Jeremy rolled over on the bed, head resting on Jean’s stomach. His fingers were still playing mercilessly over his abdomen and inner thigh. Jean’s whole chest was flushed red and convulsing with deep breaths. 

‘You know what they say is even better than a workout?’ Jeremy’s voice was even more hoarse now. He slapped Jean’s thigh and laughed. 

After a few minutes, Jeremy asked, ‘Jean, are you able to talk?’

Jean sat up, seized with purpose. Then he seized Jeremy. 

Jeremy lasted almost twice as long as Jean. He would have been worried he wasn’t doing it right, but for the happy little sighs that kept turning into moans of pleasure. His fingers were in Jean’s hair again, alternatively stroking and pulling. Jean truthfully hadn’t a clue what he was doing, but he listened for the moans and pulled back when he felt them getting loud. That seemed to drive Jeremy mad; his fingers and abdomen tightened, and his legs wrapped themselves around Jean’s body. 

When he finally got him to come, it tasted bitter and hot and victorious. Jean had never known satisfaction like this. Confusingly, he felt himself getting hard again.

‘Oh god,’ Jeremy was saying. ‘Oh my god. Let’s start every day like this.’

‘Is it weird that I could go again?’ Jean asked, loving the way his voice sounded. 

Jeremy coughed out a laugh. ‘Oh man, I got me a freak. Come up here.’

When they kissed, they could taste each other. Jean should have been disgusted, but he was instead mildly obsessed with it. Or maybe just with Jeremy.  
Before they knew it, a whole morning had passed, filled with kissing and laughing and light groping.

‘So,’ Jeremy said, after Jean had kissed him breathless. ‘I take it you’re not having any second thoughts about doing this?’

Jean leaned back, considering. ‘What exact kind of “this” were you hoping for?’

Jeremy went quiet for a while. Then he said, ‘Listen, if you just want this to be sex, then that’s … fine, I guess. But you know I already told you I like you. Like, a lot.’

Jean squirmed slightly. ‘So … you’d be ok with me, in a relationship?’

Jeremy tilted his head up from where it was again resting on Jean’s chest. ‘What does that mean?’

There were only so many ways to say he was damaged goods, so he just came out and said it.

‘Because I’m a PTSD case? Because I have like twelve breakdowns per week? Because I’ve never even had a friend before, let alone a boyfriend?’ He paused. ‘Do you need me to go on?’

To his credit, Jeremy appeared to be giving that some thought. Jean lay there, enjoying the weight of Jeremy’s naked body on his for what might be the last time. 

‘Jean, I’ve known you for a year now,’ Jeremy said. ‘Do you think I don’t know all of that?’

Jean had been ready for this argument. ‘No, but in a _relationship_ \- '

‘Jean, we’re already in a relationship!’ Jeremy laughed. ‘We’re best friends. We have feelings for each other. We love hanging out, you’re the first person I want to tell when anything happens, and it turns out we have really great chemistry. Look, if it worries you, we don’t have to label it. God knows we have enough going on without this being a point of stress for either of us. So lets just … go with our instincts. Like on the court.’

‘Please,’ begged Jean. ‘No exy metaphors about this.’

But it was definitely an intriguing concept. By the time they’d showered (together) and eaten breakfast (together) he’d decided to trust Jeremy on this. He’d never steered him wrong before.

They stayed in Queens that day, exploring their new neighbourhood. Jeremy had been trying to get Jean to embrace the concept of brunch, and now they finally had the time to indulge. They got eggs Benedict and mimosas at a shaded little villa-type restaurant, then wandered in search of parks and coffee shops and it was just like old times, hanging out with Jeremy, making him laugh, talking about nothing at all.

It was their last night of real freedom. Tomorrow they would be busy, with new concerns on their minds. They decided to have (another) one last hurrah and go to a wine bar.

‘And this won’t be a habit,’ they reassured themselves, before clinking glasses of a very nice red.

‘You’re getting a nose for this,’ Jeremy said, approvingly. Jean had selected the bottle from the samples offered by the waiter.

Jean just shrugged, secretly thinking that it might be nice to be good at something non sports-related.

The music in the bar was the low, tinkling variety, and conversation around them was warm and muted. Jean had consciously chosen the side the table that meant his tattoo was to the window. A glass or two of wine would be more than enough to get him reaching for Jeremy’s hand, or his knee under the table.

‘I forgot to tell you,’ he said. ‘I might have invited Kevin over for dinner, once he gets here.’

Jeremy looked interested. ‘That’s a great idea. I was thinking we should try to see him as much as we can, you know? We’re all in the same city now - it would be a shame to waste this time.’

Jean opened his mouth, then took a drink of wine instead. Unfortunately, that type of diversionary tactic didn’t work on Jeremy anymore. He just gave Jean a look that said _elaborate_.

Jean knew Jeremy wouldn’t push him if he stayed silent. But a niggling thought in the back of his dumbass head reminded him that relationships meant sharing. Communication. He would have to be, once again, _known_. Awful.

‘Kevin and I,’ he began. Then reconsidered, and took another drink. ‘Hmm. Kevin and I …’

He glanced up at Jeremy, who was trying and failing not to look incredibly interested. Something about his expression tickled Jean’s good humour. 

‘How much have I told you about when Kevin and I were younger?’ he asked, scratching his stubble idly.

‘Nothing. Just that you guys were close.’

Jean nodded. ‘We were very close. Neither of us had any family - we didn’t know aboutt Kevin’s father yet. For a long time, when comfort was still a thing we could come by, we were the only comfort either of us had.’

He paused. Jeremy was hanging on his words. Jean kind of wished he didn’t have to say it.

‘I taught him French,’ he said. ‘We helped each other with Japanese … languages didn’t come naturally to Kevin.’

‘Not like they do with you,’ Jeremy said.

Jean still didn’t know how to receive a compliment, so he went on. ‘Sometimes … when we were alone - _he_ would be gone - and it would just be Kevin and I. I used to long for those days.’ He paused. ‘We were _very_ close.’

Finally, Jeremy’s eyes widened. ‘No. You didn’t.’

Jean eyed him, trying to gauge the full reaction. 

‘You did _not_ ,’ Jeremy exclaimed in a hushed whisper. Still Jean couldn’t tell if this was a positive or a negative reaction. ‘You and Kevin …’

‘Keep that to yourself,’ Jean said, making a hushing motion with his hand. That was the last thing Kevin needed getting out right now. ‘Please.’

‘Oh, of course,’ Jeremy said, with a quick frown. ‘I’d never tell anyone.’ Then his brow cleared again. ‘But … can you tell me? How far did it go?’

Jean shrugged. ‘We didn’t get a lot of time together. And we were young … mid teens, I think. It was just … desperation. You know how it is.’

He said it like this because he didn’t want to try and describe the burn of his feelings back then. The need for Kevin to look back at him, to meet that hunger with his own. It had been more than comfort. More than desire. 

But that was more than Jeremy needed to hear from him, at the beginnings of their fledgling relationship. His past was his past. It would come out, eventually.

‘It wasn’t - you know, the whole way,’ Jean added - awkwardly, but wanting to provide some clarity. ‘Just got each other off a few times.’

Jeremy nodded. His expression was neutral when he said, ‘Just like us, then.’ But it sparked sudden fear in Jean’s heart. Without thinking, he reached out and took Jeremy’s hand. 

’No,’ he said, emphatically. ‘Nothing like us.’

Jeremy gave him a shy smile and ducked his head. His fingers gently caressed Jean’s on the table top, heedless of who might see.  
Jeremy would never care who saw them, or what anyone else thought about Jean. He knew exactly who Jean was, and he liked him anyway. 

They got some dinner after that, still seated at their cozy table. They held hands or touched each other’s knees whenever they weren’t occupied with eating. Jean decided he would start caring about his public image tomorrow. Tonight was just for them. 

‘Jean.’ Jeremy was pushing the last of the roasted carrots around his plate. 

‘Yes?’ Jean had his eye on those carrots. He gave Jeremy another minute before he helped himself.

‘Will you sleep in my room tonight?’

Jean forgot the carrots, and regarded Jeremy intently. ‘I was hoping you might ask,’ he said. ‘But why?’

Jeremy looked pensive. ‘To be honest, it feels strange sleeping alone now. And it’s a big day for you tomorrow.’

‘For both of us,’ Jean reminded him. Jeremy had orientation at eleven.

Jeremy lifted one shoulder slightly. ‘Well. I thought it might be nice to have a little familiarity. For both of us.’

Jean had never thought of himself as a romantic. But in this moment he couldn’t stop himself from taking Jeremy’s hand and kissing the back of it fiercely. 

That night, they made love properly, and at length. The next day and what was to come meant nothing to Jean; he didn’t spare it a single second. Instead he devoted himself to learning Jeremy’s body, and lavishing attention on him. It was beyond intoxicating; the taste and smell of him was overwhelming.  
They laughed and teased and talked each other through it. Jeremy stroked Jean’s hair as he struggled with shaking hands to put a condom on. He arched his back as Jean slicked up his fingers and pressed inside him, his cheeks flushed and hot from Jean’s kisses. Jean would have fallen apart if he hadn’t steadied him. His hands on his body and his legs wrapped around his waist. It was new, and exciting, and Jean felt powerful. 

And it was _fun_. It was like everything else he did with Jeremy, except it also made his knees weak and his limbs tremble and his whole body flush with arousal. He wished he could go back and tell sixteen year old Jean that it would get _this_ good. He’d really needed it back then.

Afterwards, Jean lay with Jeremy’s head on his chest, one arm wrapped around him, light-headed with happiness. He was glad Jeremy couldn’t see the silly, dazed grin on his face.

‘That was good,’ Jeremy murmured. ‘We’re good at that.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Jean said. ‘I think we need to do a lot more practising.’

When Jeremy laughed, Jean felt it against his ribs. ‘I am all about practise,’ he said. After a moment, he added, ‘Are you going to tell Kevin?’

Jean blinked. Of all the things to be thinking about right now, Kevin wasn’t on top of his list. 

‘ … I don’t know. Why are you asking?’

Jeremy made a small noise of amusement. ‘Sorry. My mind was racing ahead. Basically, I’ve spent a whole year wanting to touch you but not being able to. Now that I’m allowed, I don’t know how to stop doing it. And I thought maybe that would freak Kevin out if I couldn’t … restrain myself.’

Jean thought about it. ‘Kevin’s not homophobic,’ he said. ‘He’s just uptight.’

Jeremy snorted. ‘Good to know. But that’s not what I meant.’

Jean frowned, then recalled their earlier conversation. ‘You mean … you think he’ll be jealous?’

Jeremy waved his hand a little. ‘Is that dumb?’

‘Depends on who you think he’d be jealous of.’

Jeremy tilted his head up in confusion. Jean wondered if he was ready to have the conversation about Kevin’s massive and seemingly eternal crush on Jeremy. But he didn’t want to give him anything to stress about right now. 

‘Nothing,’ he said, pulling Jeremy a little closer. ‘I’ll tell him. Don’t worry.’

They didn’t feel inclined to separate that night, so they allowed themselves to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Jean’s phone vibrated quietly the next morning, waking him up for his first day as a Boston Wanderer. Despite the new fear in his stomach and the tempting view of Jeremy in bed beside him, discipline was a core factor of Jean’s person. He moved mechanically, showering and dressing and fixing a protein shake. His bag had been packed and ready for days. He only paused to think when he returned to Jeremy’s room to collect his phone. 

Jeremy hadn’t stirred since he’d left. He was curled on his side, one arm curled next to him and the other along his side. Jean could still feel the heat and the shape of him against his own skin. 

He put one knee gently on the bed so he could lean in and kiss Jeremy’s cheek. His skin was sleep-warm and soft. Jean lingered there, inhaling, then kissed him again before withdrawing. 

He joined the early morning commuters and indulged in a little people watching to take his mind off the clawing anxiety in his chest. He’d already answered two texts from Stephanie, wishing him luck and reminding him of a few things. Interestingly, there was one from Kevin too. It was a generic “good luck” statement, but these messages were starting to become out of character. Maybe he was taking initiative and trying to build up their relationship again, seeing as how they were in the same city. Possibly his father was bullying him into it. Yes, that made sense, Jean thought.

Still, it was odd that not a day seemed to go by without a thought or a mention of Kevin. 

Thankfully there was no press on day one. There would be an official press morning next week, where the new signings would show off their jersey numbers and give a brief interview. But today was just about learning the new layout and meeting his coaches. 

Nothing, Jean thought, could be harder than day one at USC. All those stares, his injuries on full show. So much pep and cheer and laughter, and he unable to do anything but recoil from it all.

He was a different person now. Not fixed, but on the mend. He could do this.

There were two other new signings from college exy, and one move from a pro team down south, so at least Jean wasn’t the only new face. The Wanderers had had a big influx of cash from a new owner, and were making waves with their pre-season signings. There were high expectations from both within and outside the club for them to do very well this year. Jean could handle that. His ability to play was the one thing about himself that he never doubted. 

The head coach, Trevor Kingsley, was one of several new faces to meet and hands to shake. There were two assistant coaches - Adam Young and Pep Linders - as well as the team doctor, the head physio, and the head of fitness and conditioning. 

And then there was the backliner coach, who Jean would be working with very closely. Luna Fernandes was 5’5 with sleek, dark hair and killer eyebrows. He’d heard of her vaguely; she’d torn shit up in the Mexican exy leagues, and had been one of the first great female exy players. She was young for a coach; maybe that was why she walked like she wanted to put her feet through the ground. Her handshake was bone crunching.

‘We will do good work together,’ she said, with a fierce smile. Jean didn’t dare disagree.

And then they went into warm ups and drills, and Jean switched his brain from normal mode to exy mode. The drills were new, and tough to learn, but no one hit him for getting it wrong. His new gear felt strange, and would take a little while to break in, but he was allowed the space to do that. His fitness had dipped just slightly in the few weeks since the final, along with being generally lower than the pro league standard. The head of fitness and conditioning, Sally Reynolds, along with the team nutritionist, helped him devise a meal plan and exercise regime that specifically suited his body and metabolism. They were already aware of his difficulty with eating large meals in one sitting, and it had been accounted for. No one had to mention the phrase “periodic starvation”; he didn’t have to field any concerned or confused looks. Jean added several thank yous to his mental notes for Stephanie.

His new teammates were generally welcoming, but there were definitely a few weighted looks from that corner. Jean knew them all by reputation, of course. He hadn’t had much time for recreational viewing of pro games before, but had been studying ever since the Wanderers had become an option for him.

The other two newly minted teammates Jean _did know_ , from knocking them down on the court last year. Both Evans from Arizona and De Jong from New Mexico gave him a wide berth, and Jean couldn't really blame them.

There was a printed schedule for the rest of the week; a kind of orientation for new players. There would be a talk on privacy and respecting other players, and one on social media and use of cell phones. With that in mind, Jean didn’t even consider taking his phone out of his bag until he was fully versed on the rules. This wouldn’t have been a problem before, of course. But he’d never had someone on his mind like this before.

A tough session in the gym wrung the rest of his concerns out like an old towel. Jean relished the burn of his muscles and the peace of knowing he was working towards the same goal as everyone else around him. After a talk with Luna and the head physio, Miguel de Silva, he decided on a fitness plan with specific goals and targets with a contented feeling that everything was falling into place. 

Jean’s kit and armour had all been made to his exact measurements, and was pronounced perfect after the first fitting. Pro players usually outgrew their first set quite quickly, as they bulked up so much. 

His new racquet, however, was another story.

Some players were superstitious, and had difficulty transitioning to a new racquet. Clubs always had sponsorship deals with major racquet manufacturers, but luckily Jean had no hang ups about his old Raven or USC gear. Nor was he superstitious; his new jersey number would be 16, because it was available, and he didn’t give a damn.

Luna and the dealer coach accompanied Jean and the other two new recruits to the cages to meet the gear manager, Jules Harrow. Jean let Evans and De Jong go first, content to sit back and continue to acclimatise himself. 

When their racquets had been tested and selected, and his teammates had departed with the dealer coach, Jean stepped forward. He bypassed the lighter and mid-range racquets, going straight for the backliner section. There would be no indecision here; it would be simply a matter of testing them until he found it.

Luna watched him carefully as he continued to cycle up through the weights. Technically all the brackets were meant to be industry standard, but all manufacturers had slightly different specifics. Harrow’s eyebrows went higher and higher as Jean pressed on, testing a few but returning them to the rack. When he was a step beyond the goalie bracket, he finally found one.

It looked the same as all the others - blue and white with accents of gold, the Wanderer colours - but when he lifted it the weight finally felt right in his hands. 

‘You don’t have to prove anything,’ Harrow said, watching him, but Luna shook her head at him.

It was heavy, for sure. The next one down might have been a better fit at this time, but Jean knew he was on a path to advance out of his current level of fitness and strength. Better he get used to a racquet now than in six months time, and have to switch out mid-season. 

‘Trial week,’ Harrow said. ‘No shame in switching it out. You’ll know in a week anyways.’

Jean knew right now, but he nodded anyways in case anyone thought he was being difficult. The new racquet was another challenge, another goal to meet. Jean surprised himself with being almost eager to meet it.

Most of his other teammates drove fancy cars, and there was some milling around in the parking lot when they were released in the afternoon. It had been unusual to have a full day’s training and gym done without any interruptions for class or free periods. 7am was an early start for most, but felt almost lazy to Jean. Now it was 3pm and he was done for the day. Not only done, but under strict orders not to overdo it.

‘This is what happens with the new ones,’ Luna told him seriously. ‘They’re used to these packed schedules, with school and practice and homework, and now they see all this free time and they think that they have to fill it somehow. So they hit the gym or stay late or play scrimmage.’ She shook her head. ‘Don’t do it. If you still have energy, a light jog is all I want you doing. Or some non-intensive sports.’

Jean had frowned. ‘Like what?’

‘Swimming,’ Luna suggested. ‘It’s very peaceful, and I won’t have to worry about you doing your hamstring. If you get injured here at training, that’s unfortunate but no one’s fault. If you get injured overexerting yourself in your downtime, that’s on you. Got it?’

Jean got it. He liked a good set of rules. It was so easy to stay the course when he knew what obstacles to avoid. 

But now he was indeed faced with the rest of the day. Jeremy’s orientation was an all-day thing for super geniuses. Jean had already made the decision not to text him. He knew Jeremy was excited, and eager to make new friends. This was simply a fact of Jeremy. So Jean was not going to distract him from that. He was a big boy, in a very big city, and surely he could figure out what to do with himself. 

His gear would stay at the training ground, of course. All he had was a light backpack containing his water and wallet. Alone now in a crowd, Jean appreciated once again how people in New York simply didn’t give a shit about you. No one even glanced at him. And, he reasoned, there were far stranger and more famous people here than him to interest anyone who cared to glance around. 

Jean had the same issues with being alone as all ex-Ravens. But everyone around him was plugged into their own environment, wrapped up in their own concerns or conversations and not paying him the slightest bit of heed. This wasn’t alone. Jean felt something like connection with all the individuals around him. He was just one of millions, all part of the same mass.

Thinking these deep thoughts, he made his way to a bookstore that Stephanie had recommended when he’d told her his (very few) interests. There, he picked up a book on advanced learning in Spanish. He was determined not to let his language skills deteriorate, and wondered if Luna would indulge him with some conversation once he’d gotten to know her a little better. 

He also got, to his eternal shame, a French dictionary. Stephanie had already been talking about a potential call up for a test match with the French national team. Jean simply couldn’t think that far ahead, or that incredibly extreme, but one massive element of anxiety for him in that whole scenario was having to communicate in what was essentially middle-grade French. 

Jean paid, and was about to leave when he went down the wrong escalator and found himself in the fiction section. He sought the up escalator immediately, unable as always to shake the feeling that he had somewhere to be and there was no time to dawdle. Then a book caught his eye - a nice gold cover - and he paused to examine. And then another caught his eye, and then another. Soon he was flipping through titles and reading blurbs and looking at prices. 

Logically he knew that he didn’t have money to splash out like this. For a while, at least until they got a new roommate, he would have to carefully budget and count his coins. 

An idea formed in his head, and he got out his phone. Twenty minutes later he was in a second hand bookstore, browsing almost eagerly. He left with three books at a fraction of the price of the other store, wondering wildly if this was why people loved shopping so much. 

It wasn’t even dinner time yet, but Jean’s stomach needed refilling. Along with his nutrition plan, he had been provided with a list of eateries in the city and Queens that had suitable menus for casual eating. So Jean headed for Queens, doing some mental math as he did so. His MTA ticket was already comped, and he was encouraged to eat both breakfast and lunch with the Wanderers. So that was two meals per day and one major expenditure he could cross off his list of expenses. 

There was also the fact that being a Wanderer meant he just got free shit. There was money to be made for brands to have them wearing their clothes or headphones or using their phones, even if fans only saw them walking from the bus to the stadium on game day. Already he had a new phone and a brand new (and expensive) smartwatch so he could track his fitness, sleep, and heart rate, as well as a whole list of other things that Jean couldn’t imagine a watch could really tell him. This had been handed over matter of factly, in the same manner as the armour and racquet. Tools of the trade. 

So, Jean indulged, and had a light afternoon snack of a power salad and green tea, while he sat at a window seat in the little cafe and read his book. He only meant to stop for a while, but he lost over an hour there, sitting in a warm pool of sunshine, reading, for the first time in his life, an actual story.

Jean had never had time for books. At Edgar Allen, there hadn’t been a second where he wasn’t training or studying or snatching some sleep. Even eating was done on the move. At USC, he’d dipped his toe into the recreational pond, but that usually involved tagging along on social activities with Jeremy and his friends. Diverting, but not exactly peaceful. Peace came sometimes in the evenings, when he and Jeremy would sit on the couch and watch tv and talk shit back and forth. That, Jean had thought, was as restful as it got for him.

This was the first book he’d read since coming to America that wasn’t specifically for school. He’d read the classics for English, but he had been reading behind the words to study the cultural context and themes. No one was going to test him on this. He could just enjoy it. 

Jean thought that, if given enough time like this, he might become a real man of leisure. He couldn’t wait to tell Jeremy.

He journeyed home at last, taking his time about it. He took the walk from the train to the apartment especially slow, as he was on the phone with Stephanie. She seemed to approve of everything he said, and eagerly provided information on where and how Jean might enjoy some swimming time. Jean only really asked her to show he was listening to Luna, but Stephanie’s approval meant now he’d actually have to do it. Jean did not especially like the water.

Once home, he showered and changed out of his street clothes, then went to the grocery store with his menu in his hand and hope in his heart. Learning to cook was yet another goal on his list, but there were so many ways to learn when you had the internet and no one shouting at you.

Only one thought intruded on him that day to darken his sky. As he was enjoying a very healthy (if slightly bland) home cooked meal and feeling very proud of himself, Jean realised that the Boston Knights had started up again for the new recruits today, too. It had been one of the many factoids mentioned by Stephanie; the two rival teams always kicked off the season with a test match in the open-air stadium, a week before the games began.

Jean tapped his fork against his plate and glanced at his phone with a frown. Where the hell was Kevin?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here he is, the man the myth the legend

After four weeks - four incredibly tiring, absorbing, _good_ weeks- there was only one thing troubling Jean.

For once, it wasn’t exy. While he'd probably never love the game, he found the exercise sufficiently tough and interesting. His teammates weren’t hostile or antagonistic, but neither were they overly enthusiastic or excitable, like the Trojans. It made them at worst bearable, and at best almost interesting. They came from varied backgrounds, and had more life experience than a college student. Many were several years older than Jean, and to his surprise considered him little more than a child.

That was ok. It mitigated the interest in him buzzing around. It had only been a year since Riko’s death. There was going to be a tribute to him at the start of the season, some sort of memorial. If all had gone according to Riko’s plan, he would have been entering the pro leagues this year too.

Jean was going to have to stand there, straight faced, while someone gave a speech and talked about achievements and wasted potential. Plenty of people who were in the know were very interested in watching him these days.

But all that was out of his hands. All he had to do was weather the emotional anguish that came with it. Nothing new there.

Jeremy was flourishing, as expected. His course was definitely harder than he’d thought it would be, but he thrived on that - he came home tired but invigorated every day, praising the intellect and innovation of his new classmates. He was flushed with the light of discovery and new learning. Jean envied him that. It looked good on him.

Jean was also encouraging him to spend time with these new friends. Jean knew he himself was not much company. Boring was good for him; it was what he needed right now. This was how he kept going, moving through the nightmares and the panic attacks and the things he could not control.

Jeremy was full of life. But if Jean did nothing about it, he would stay in every night with him, curled up on the couch or stretched out under the blankets. Which of course would please Jean no end. But he tried to remind himself every day that Jeremy was a vastly different creature, with different needs. Jean was trying to take care of him as best he could.

They were happy. Jean hardly recognised it; it took Jeremy pointing it out for him to realise. Jean was still the same person - the same nightmares, the same bad memories - but somehow, he was happy.

And happiness opened certain avenues in his heart that had previously closed. He wondered, almost every day, how Kevin was doing.

Therein lay the trouble. He had scarcely heard from Kevin at all, only some brief texts that didn’t tell him anything at. Jean had even considered asking Stephanie to make some inquiries, but he didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that either Jean was worried, or that Kevin was not where he was supposed to be.

Renee didn’t know either. _‘I haven’t seen him_ ,’ she told him over text. ‘ _Do you want me to ask around?’_

So he was avoiding his own teammates too, his apparent friends. Jean highly doubted that Kevin had really cracked the “friends” thing, but the Foxes clearly cared about him.

It was starting to eat at Jean, and as soon as that happened, Jeremy noticed.

‘You’re quiet today,’ he said one evening. It was raining outside - a summer storm. Thunder was due later, so Jean was sure to have a bad night. It was hard to worry about that, though, when he was so pleasantly satisfied, and Jeremy’s head was on his bare chest.

Things had been growing so fast between them. They had sex every night now, usually jumping one another as soon as they were reunited at the end of the day. It was enthusiastic, wildly energetic stuff, with a lot of laughter before and kissing afterwards. Newfound leisure or no, the best part of Jean’s day was seeing Jeremy’s smile as he came through the door, ready for a kiss.

Needless to say, neither of them were eager to add a third person to their newfound domestic bliss, even if it was going to be a drain on their bank accounts. But the days passed, and neither of them brought it up.

‘Is it Gary?’ Jeremy asked, when Jean didn’t answer him.

Jean laughed quietly and stroked Jeremy’s hair. ‘No, not him.’

Jeremy thought about it ‘Then it’s Kevin, right?’

Jean ran a finger slowly over Jeremy’s brow. ‘What makes you say that?’

Jeremy shifted his head into a more comfortable position. ‘I know what you worry about,’ he said. ‘Right now, you’re good at the club.’ He picked up Jean’s hand and kissed his fingers. ‘You’re good with me. And you’re enjoying your free time. The only other things to think about are financial issues, and Kevin.’

Jean was an open and shut case for Jeremy. He didn’t reply right away, basking instead in the feeling of trust between the two of them.

‘I haven’t heard from him,’ he said, eventually. ‘I don’t know where he is.’

‘He’s not in New York?’

‘I don’t know. I can’t find anything that says he isn’t training. His name is on the squad list; we're discussing him in training, for the test match. But if he’s in the city, why won’t he tell me where? I thought we …’

Jeremy kissed his fingers again, and left his lips there. ‘You did,’ he said. ‘So maybe it’s not about you.’

Jean honestly hadn’t considered that. He was quite used to being a problem. But then, he and Kevin did share a few of the same problems.

‘Why don’t you call him,’ Jeremy suggested.

‘That would be rude.’

Jeremy laughed. ‘What? It’s just being direct. You’ve called him before.’

‘Not when he’s been avoiding me.’

Jeremy threaded his fingers through Jean’s. ‘Sometimes people need their ass gently kicked,’ he said. ‘I will admit that my version of Kevin doesn’t really tally with yours most of the time, but I bet he’d like to know that you’re thinking about him.’

Jean thought about that. When it came to social contact, Kevin was even odder than he was. But Jeremy was Jean's sounding board for normal behaviour, and honestly he’d already been considering taking this a step further.

‘Ok,’ he said. ‘I’ll call him.’

Jeremy patted his bare thigh. ‘Good. And invite him to dinner while you’re at it.’

That was enough worrying about Kevin for one night. Jean was all for turning Jeremy over and going again, but he seemed to be drifting off in his arms.

‘You’re very good to me,’ he murmured instead, sliding down and wrapping his arms around him properly. They usually fell asleep in one another’s beds, rotating back and forth so that neither felt unused. They were in Jean’s bed tonight, which always smelled like Jeremy now. His room certainly felt more lived-in now, but the only time he really spent in there was with Jeremy.

Jeremy smiled and wriggled back against him. ‘It’s easy,’ he replied, his voice a sleepy mumble. ‘You make me very happy.’ He took Jean’s hand and pulled it close to his heart. ‘Are you happy too?’

Jean kissed the back of his neck and hoped Jeremy was asleep, because he didn’t have the words to tell him how he felt right now.

Jean gave the matter a great deal of thought the next day, and went straight home after practice. It was getting harder every day - he suspected it would be so for the first year, and he was prepared for that - and he was tempted to take a nap. But instead he took a few minutes to psych himself up, then called Kevin from the couch.

It rang out, then went to voicemail. Irritated, Jean redialled. Voicemail again. ‘For fuck’s sake, Kevin.’

On the last ring, the phone finally connected. Jean was annoyed enough that he started talking in French immediately.

‘So what, you see my number come up now and you avoid the phone? Just like you don’t tell me where you are?’

There was a beat of silence. Then Kevin said his name. Jean had been reloading, but paused now with his mouth open. Kevin sounded strange.

‘Jean, I …’ Kevin cleared his throat. ‘Thank you for calling.’

His French was halting, but they had always talked like this in bad times. Their language of sorrow. ‘What is is?’ Jean asked. ‘Are you ok?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Are you in New York?’

‘Yes.’

Jean exhaled, annoyed again. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Where are you staying? I can come over.’

‘No. Can you meet me somewhere?’

‘Yes. Now? Where?’

Jean surprised himself with his own insistence, but some strange protective urge leftover from their Raven days rose up in him when he heard Kevin like this.

Kevin sent him the name and address of a bar in the city. Jean didn’t know the area but could follow a map. Kevin asked him to meet him there in two hours, then hung up.

Jean was so mad he had to do a whole set of push ups and then take a nap. He didn’t tell Jeremy, who had enough on his plate right now without worrying about Kevin. This would spoil his whole afternoon, but Jean had nothing better to do. On a hunch, though, he texted him, _Don’t make plans tonight_. Jeremy would probably think he wanted sex, and he’d be right, but there was always the chance he could coax Kevin back with him. An evening in Jeremy’s company would do him the world of good.

He woke up from his nap to a headache, which did nothing to improve his mood, and text from Jeremy - _love it when you’re bossy -_ which definitely did. He threw back a bottle of water and took a quick shower, then headed out on to the streets.

It was impossible for Jean to take transit in the city without deeply appreciating the crowds and strange people he saw. Total anonymity for a creature like him. An exy fan would know him for sure, if only by the tattoo, but most people just didn’t meet his eyes. He got a few inquiring - possibly admiring - glances, but kept his eyes down and earbuds in, checking his watch every now and then in case Kevin had messaged.

It was a little early to be drinking by Jean’s standards, but the bar was dark and muted inside, giving the illusion of a late hour. He found Kevin in a booth in the corner, his back to the door. When he touched his shoulder, Kevin flinched.

Wordlessly, he sat down and raised a finger towards the bar, because it looked like that kind of place. Then he turned to Kevin, and started.

‘What the fuck,’ he demanded, staring at the old bruise under Kevin’s eye.

Kevin looked at him swiftly but didn’t reply. Jean felt his anger rise.

‘Oh, that’s old news,’ Kevin said, when he felt the heat of Jean’s gaze. ‘Neil and I had a fight.’

‘He hit you?’

‘No, Andrew hit me after I hit Neil,’ Kevin explained. ‘I was drunk.’

He was on his way to drunk now, too. ‘What was the fight about?’ Jean asked, worry replacing anger.

Kevin shrugged. ‘It was either about him wanting to be public with Andrew, or me not wanting to come to New York. I forget. There were a few fights.’

Jean shook his head. ‘Why are you like this?’

‘I don’t know,’ Kevin replied, quietly. Jean wondered how many drinks he was.

His own arrived, and he sipped it carefully. He wanted to make it last, and not just because he was sure it was top shelf, knowing Kevin.

‘Alright, well,’ Jean began, preparing for an argument. ‘Why am I here?’

Kevin blinked at him, his brow a questioning frown.

‘What couldn’t you tell me on the phone,’ Jean clarified.

Kevin glanced away. ‘Oh. No. I just wanted to see you.’

Jean did not know how to take that. They drank in silence for a moment.

‘Where are you staying?’ he asked quietly.

‘Hotel,’ Kevin replied.

Jean clenched his jaw. ‘Why?’

Kevin looked up at him with a trace of his usual short temper. ‘Well, it proved a little difficult to get a roommate. I’m sure you can imagine why.’

‘So live alone then.’ His dad could surely help him out with the money, Jean thought, sourly.

Kevin sat back, defiance gone. ‘I can’t do that either,’ he said. ‘It’s been two weeks and I’m …’

Now Jean could see that the bruise under his other eye was a shadow; his face was thin, and more pale than usual.

Suddenly, Jean felt wretched.

‘Jesus,’ he muttered, pushing his glass away, feeling ill. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Why would I tell you?’ Kevin challenged.

‘Because we’re in the same boat, asshole.’

Kevin laughed, a hollow sound. ‘No we’re not. You’re not alone.’

Jean thought suddenly of how he’d felt when he’d heard Kevin’s father had taken him in. He knew that wasn’t the kind of alone Kevin meant, and tried not to feel resentful.

‘You still getting nightmares?’ he asked.

Kevin nodded. ‘Every night.’

Jean sighed. ‘Is the exy good, at least?’

Kevin shrugged. ‘Yes, I knew that would be fine. But they won’t let me stay as late as I want.’

‘What are your teammates like?’

‘Efficient. Fast and strong. We work well together.’

Jean hadn’t meant it that way, but it told him enough. Kevin was completely alone here.

Kevin was waving for another drink. Jean watched him pensively, wondering what to do next.

‘Are you still looking for a place to live?’ he asked tentatively, when his drink arrived. The waiter had brought them two, though Jean hadn’t finished his first.

‘It’s on me,’ Kevin said, dismissively. ‘Don’t worry.’

‘Where are you getting the money for a hotel?’

‘Inheritance.’

Jean frowned. ‘What?’

Kevin’s expression was stormy. ‘I could only access it once I finished school. They can’t touch it.’

 _They_ had entered the conversation. Jean was eager to steer it away as quickly as possible.

So, it seemed, was Kevin. ‘How’s Jeremy?’ he asked.

Jean did his best to school his expression to neutrality. ‘Good,’ he replied. ‘He’s enjoying school. Making friends. Having fun. You know, his usual.’

Kevin almost smiled. ‘Wonder what that’s like,’ he said, echoing Jean’s tone.

Jean smiled back, and for a moment they were in sync.

‘Jeremy’s been saying we should have you over for dinner,’ Jean said. ‘He’s really looking forward to seeing you.’

Kevin sighed, but nodded. He threw back the rest of his drink like a challenge. ‘I should have called you,’ he said.

‘Yes, you should have.’

‘Why didn’t you call me?’

‘I didn’t know you were alone!’ Jean said, defensively.

Kevin’s eyes narrowed. ‘So the only reason you called was out of pity?’

‘Don’t be a jerk. I was texting you.’

‘To make sure I wasn’t slitting my wrists somewhere?’

Jean wanted to slap him. ‘Yeah, Kevin, that’s exactly it. No other reason.’

Kevin’s expression hardened, and he raised his hand for another drink. Jean pushed his own towards him.

‘Don’t waste it,’ he said, voice tight.

Kevin was rapidly getting too drunk to send out into New York traffic by himself. They’d made some strides, but Jean was in too bad a mood to do much for Kevin right now. He hated seeing him like this; it was a reminder that, without Jeremy, he’d be just as bad.

When Kevin went to the bathroom, Jean texted Jeremy quickly. _With Kevin. He’s drunk and in a weird mood. Can I bring him back?_

Jeremy texted back almost immediately. _Yes!! I’ll be home in 30. Food?_

Jean couldn’t reply because Kevin had come back. Somehow he looked even worse. Jean suspected he might have thrown up.

‘Jeremy’s at home,’ Jean said. ‘Why don’t you come back with me and see him?’

Kevin shook his head. ‘No, are you kidding? Not today.’

‘He’ll kick my ass if I don’t bring you back.’

‘You don’t have to take care of me - ’

‘Consider instead that we’re friends,’ Jean said, loudly talking over him. ‘And that we want to see you. How about you also remember that I’m not an idiot.’

Kevin looked at him for a moment. ‘I miss you,’ he said.

This wasn’t usual for drunk-Kevin. It was usually anger then guilt and eventually a stupid decision. Jean wasn’t equipped to handle emotion.

‘Go pay your tab,’ he said, uneasily. ‘We’re getting out of here.’

The evening sun was setting, and the street still bustled with tourists heading out and workers heading home. Jean kept a grip on Kevin’s elbow and steered him towards the subway, only to discover he didn’t have a metro card.

‘How the fuck do you get around?’ asked Jean, as he got him one at the machine.

‘Uber,’ Kevin replied. Jean could only shake his head.

For the first time since arriving in the city, Jean felt a bit too obvious. Someone might overlook his own tattoo, but how often did you see two people with cheek tattoos? There was also the fact that Kevin was both very good looking and very obviously drunk. He was leaning on Jean a little. Jean tucked him against his body protectively, hating that people were seeing Kevin so vulnerable.

The train car got crowded, and Jean abruptly had enough. He dragged Kevin off at the next stop and up into the air.

‘I thought you lived in Queens?’ Kevin said, squinting around.

‘I do,’ Jean said, digging out his phone.

Once they were safely in the cool interior of a taxi, Jean relaxed a little. The driver was listening to Best of Bollywood and paying them no attention.

 _On the way,_ he texted Jeremy.

Idly he scrolled up through the chat, a smile tugging his lips as he read some of their older messages. Many of them were explicit in nature. Jean had had to fix the settings on his phone so it didn’t show a preview of incoming texts.

The apartment was cool and smelled like pizza. Jean and Kevin both perked up upon entering, Jean’s eyes searching for Jeremy.

He was in their little kitchen, looking healthy and and beautiful and full of warmth. He gave Kevin a huge grin and gathered him into a hug. Kevin collapsed into his arms, hugging him tightly. Jean’s heart gave a hollow little ache; he hadn’t realised Kevin liked hugs now.

‘Kevin.’ Jeremy held him at arms length and then touched the bruise on his face. ‘ _Drinking_ ,’ he said, dramatically.

Kevin laughed - actually laughed, not one of those sarcastic noises he made at Jean sometimes. ‘Alas,’ he said. ‘I do have a vice.’

‘Good to know you’re human after all,’ Jeremy said, pulling him in for another hug. ‘Man, it’s so good to see you.’

Jeremy, of course, was perfect for this task. He got Kevin seated on the couch with a glass of water, then pulled Jean into the kitchen. Jean thought he might be mad, but instead he pulled Jean in for a kiss.

‘It was weird just saying hello to you,’ Jeremy murmured against his lips, before kissing him again. Jean was utterly helpless in his arms.

‘I didn’t tell Kevin anything about us,’ he said, quickly.

Jeremy sighed. ‘Yeah, I don’t think that’s a discussion for tonight. Lets keep it light, yeah?’

Jean agreed, and kissed him again for being perfect. ‘Did you order pizza?’

‘No, I’m making it from scratch,’ Jeremy said, brightly. ‘I did two, and there’s loads of veggies. A girl in my class gave me this really good recipe - ’

Jean just had to kiss him again. He gathered him in with one arm around his waist and a hand in his hair, feeling almost unbearably tender.

A voice in the back of his head said this was going to make finding a roommate even harder, but it was just impossible to care about that right now.

Jeremy could put away a whole pizza by himself in fifteen minutes flat, but Jean and Kevin had the same small stomach, so they shared a veggie-laden pizza between them. Kevin was very quiet, sipping water and eating slowly. Jeremy had sensed that no one was willing to discuss the obvious, so he filled the silence by telling them about his day/week for Kevin’s benefit.

No one could tell a story like Jeremy; he used his hands as often as his mouth, and spoke in short, concise sentences that always cut to the point and brought you along with him. Jean could listen to him all day; glancing at Kevin, he saw that the feeling was mutual. Kevin hardly took his eyes off him, in fact. He even laughed once or twice.

Jean had mentioned quietly to Jeremy that Kevin was living in a hotel now, so that Jeremy would have a little time to process it and curb his reaction. As the pizza disappeared and the conversation wound down, Jean could see him gearing up for the real talk.

To lessen the awkwardness, Jean excused himself and went to the bathroom. He took a few minutes catching up on some phone stuff before rejoining them. When he came back, he paused in the hallway.

Jeremy had joined Kevin on the couch, and was sitting quite close to him, one leg drawn up. Kevin was talking quietly, and Jeremy was listening and nodding. His expression was neutral, to encourage more talk, but Jean could how seriously he was taking this.

Going with his gut, Jean waited for a lull in their conversation before reentering the living room. When he did, he sat down on Kevin’s other side.

Kevin turned to look at him. He was clearly still under the influence, but the food and water had done him good. He looked serious, but less distressed.

‘Jean,’ he said. ‘I don’t know how to talk to you.’

Jean blinked. Not what he’d been expecting. ‘Ok?’

Kevin sighed quietly. ‘You’re doing so well,’ he said, voice low. ‘I didn’t expect it. Because … I’m not.’

Jean nodded. ‘We both have things to deal with,’ he said, slowly. ‘I have a lot of fear. And I cannot be alone, either.’

‘But you are,’ Kevin said, a thread of urgency in his voice now, and Jean sensed they were coming to the main issue, Kevin’s real problem. ‘Jeremy’s out all day, he just told me. You’re by yourself. How do you …’

He broke off, because Jean was shaking his head. It had taken him a little while, but he did know the answer to this one.

‘It’s not the same,’ he said. ’No, listen. At first, at USC, it was terrible. I could not be alone, like you. Even walking to class by myself was … very bad.’ He swallowed back the bad memories. ‘And when they set me loose after my first day at the Wanderers, I didn’t know what to do. But it was ok.’ He pressed a hand to his chest, over his heart. ‘I’m not alone in here anymore. This is where it hurt. This is how the damage was done. We spent our whole lives in pairs and groups but we were always alone. Now, when I am in this apartment by myself and there isn’t a sound in the whole building, I don’t feel alone. There’s peace.’

Kevin gazed at him like he held the secrets of the universe. ‘How did you do it?’

It wasn’t enough to say friends. That would have been cruel - Kevin had been so close with the Foxes, and Jean didn’t want to accuse him of doing friends wrong. He’d clearly tried his best. He also had his father, but Jean had no idea what that relationship was like.

Jeremy had been watching Jean as he spoke. Jean met his eyes now, and felt a huge swell of love and warmth in his chest. Jeremy glanced at Kevin, then back to Jean.

Jean inclined his head towards Jeremy in answer. When Kevin turned, hopeful and eager, Jean ached.

Jeremy smiled at Kevin. ‘You are loved, Kevin,’ he said, gently. ‘If you let people in, they’ll show you.’

‘I had to learn it,’ Jean said. ‘You can too. All the bad stuff - it doesn’t matter when you really … care about someone.’

Jeremy caught his eye, and Jean’s stomach flipped over.

Kevin sighed between them. ‘Fine. I don’t know how to do any of that, but clearly you know more about it than me.’

Jean gave him a little shove. ‘Don’t be difficult.’

Kevin nudged him back. Jeremy was looking at Jean meaningfully.

‘Stay here tonight,’ Jean said. ‘We have a spare room.’

‘I’ll make it up,’ Jeremy said, quietly. ‘Jean can give you something to sleep in.’

Kevin didn’t object. He let followed Jean to his bedroom while Jeremy eagerly got to open the “guest sheets”.

Jean watched Kevin look around. The only space of Jean’s he’d ever known was the shared room back at the Nest. It had been the same black stone as the rest of them, with zero personal items other than his regulation black clothing and his school stuff. Did that mean Kevin didn’t really know his personality? It occurred to Jean that he’d never seen a space that was wholly Kevin’s either. What an odd truth about your oldest friend.

His room was neat to a fault, but he now had several pairs of shoes at the end of the bed, a blue sweater on the back of the chair, and his Championship medal hanging from his headboard. There were two photos on his desk - one, a framed group shot of the Trojans, which had been gifted to him by the school, and the other a very good candid of him and Jeremy on graduation night. Jean couldn’t tell even now if it had been before or after the kiss; they were looking at each other in much the same way they did now. Jean never recognised himself in that photo; the soft, vulnerable expression and small smile were just things he never saw on his own face. He understood Jeremy’s bright eyes and grin much better, even if he hadn’t realised the truth at the time.

That photo had been forwarded to him by Laila, who may or may not know what was going on between them. Jean had stared at it for ten minutes before sending it to Stephanie and asking her to quietly have it printed and framed for him.

Kevin looked around his room, taking it all in, as Jean rummaged for clothes. He unearthed a black t-shirt and a pair of sweats that he hadn’t worn since the summer before. That was when he’d been at his thinnest - after the attack, he barely ate or slept, and certainly was not training. His weight had dropped dramatically. Why was he still holding on to these?

‘Here,’ Jean said, holding out the clothes.

Kevin held up the t-shirt, then glanced at Jean. ‘You’re getting bigger,’ he said, almost appreciatively.

Jean shrugged. ‘I eat a lot of protein.’

‘Small meals still?’

Jean patted his stomach. ‘Always.’

Kevin nodded, looking around again absently. ‘This is nice,’ he added.

‘Thanks. Picked the sheets myself.’

Kevin made a little noise of amusement. ‘Dad tried to make me do that,’ he said. ‘Before the hotel situation. I had a panic attack in the pillow section.’

Jean tried to hear the rest of his words, but “Dad” rang like a gong in his head. ‘Right,’ he said, distractedly. ‘Yeah, I.’

Kevin looked at him, cheeks suddenly flushed. ‘What?’ he challenged.

Jean’s first instinct was to snap. But he was so tired of doing that.

‘You should go sleep it off,’ he said, softly. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

Kevin hesitated, then swayed. It was only about 8pm but the day had taken its toll on him. Jean sent him stumbling off across the hall, then headed out to clean up the plates and things.

Jeremy lingered a little while in the spare room. When he came out, Jean was back in his bedroom. Jeremy came in and shut the door quietly behind him.

‘I think we should do separate rooms tonight,’ he said, hesitantly. ‘Do you…’

‘No, it’s fine,’ Jean said, nodding and closing the book he’d been reading. ‘Come here?’

Jeremy climbed on to the bed and into his arms. They kissed, but without the usual heat. They were both distracted, and gave it up after a few minutes.

‘What do you think?’ asked Jean, propping himself up on pillows next to Jeremy, so he could see his face.

Jeremy bit his lip, thinking. ‘He’s not in the best place,’ he said. ‘But it could get so much worse if we let it. The Kevin I know is so sharp and determined and intelligent, but this is completely new territory for him and he just doesn’t know how to navigate it. He needs a base, somewhere he can feel safe.’

Jeremy was articulating exactly what Jean had been thinking, so he knew what was coming next.

‘I think he should come stay with us.’

Jean sighed. There were so many reasons why this was a bad idea that he couldn’t decide which one to start with.

‘Before you say it’s a bad idea, please let me explain.’

‘No, I know what you’re going to say,’ he said. ‘He’s alone in a new environment, with new pressures and potentially stressful situation, and his support system is in two other states. He can’t ask for help because he doesn’t even know what he needs.’

Jeremy blinked. ‘That’s actually exactly what I was going to say.’

Jean shrugged. ‘Takes one basket case to know one.’

Jeremy’s expression softened, and he stroked Jean’s cheek. ‘If this is going to be a problem for you,’ he began. ‘I mean, with your own recovery. I know Kevin comes with some bad memories.’

That was an understatement, but Jeremy didn’t mean anything by it.

‘Those memories are always with me,’ Jean said. ‘Being here, with you, is helping me so much. I’m becoming a person again. It would be incredibly selfish to not want the same thing for Kevin.’

When Jeremy looked suddenly apprehensive, Jean clarified, ‘I don’t mean you specifically. I mean - having a friend. Someone who’ll be around, and who’ll notice if something’s wrong. Maybe he could get that from another person, but Kevin will do so much better if he doesn’t have to tiptoe around his problems and feel embarrassed when he wakes up from a nightmare or has an anxiety attack in the kitchen.

Jean got a bit heated at the very idea. Jeremy was nodding, letting him talk it out, both of them knowing and understanding the overlap here.

‘Normal housemates couldn’t cope,’ Jeremy agreed. ‘And I know I don’t know all of it, but I do know you. I think I did ok with you.’

Jean smiled. ‘You did,’ he said. He avoided telling Jeremy things like _I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you,_ because that really was too heavy, even for him.

‘I heard you and Kevin talking,’ Jeremy said. ‘Kevin called Coach Wymack his dad?’

Jean nodded. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘That felt weird. We never talked about families. Kevin only knew what was in the history books about his mother, so we were just strange orphans together. Both our fathers were out there, but may as well not have been. So hearing that was a little strange.’

Jeremy was watching him carefully. ‘Did it upset you?’

Jean didn’t answer right away. ‘No,’ he said, finally. ‘Not upset. Kevin … I used to only care about two people in the world, and one only because I was afraid of him. My thoughts revolved around them constantly. How to avoid one, how to be close to the other. I really don’t know what family means, but whatever it can mean - Kevin was it for me. He was everything to me.’

He didn’t have to say anything more than that. He couldn’t articulate it further, but he could see that Jeremy understood.

‘Now you’re it, too,’ Jean added, unnecessarily, he thought. But Jeremy’s whole expression lifted.

‘Really?’ he asked, softly.

Jean looked at him seriously, wondering if this was the time.

Jeremy said, ‘Before, when you were talking about how the bad stuff doesn’t matter when you really care about someone. It felt like … I thought you were going to say, when you love someone.’

His eyes were so dark, so warm. Jean could never feel unsafe when those eyes were on him.

Very quietly, without moving, he said, ‘I was going to say that.’

Neither of them said anything for a long time after that. They just looked at each other. Jean could do this all day every day; he drank him in, content to stay looking for as long as Jeremy would let him. After a while, Jeremy started kissing him, and Jean could feel that something was different now. Jeremy kissed him with new urgency, rolling over and getting on top of him. There was no laughter or talk or taking time, all the things Jeremy loved to do. At some point he pulled back, and pressed his forehead to Jean’s. His words were low, and his voice shook.

‘I know you think that I - I saved you, or something,’ he said, hands holding Jean tightly. ‘But you saved me too, Jean.’

Jean gazed up at him, feeling suddenly worried. He didn’t know what Jeremy was talking about, only that he was deadly serious in this moment.

They had a lot to talk about. Jean couldn’t remember if they’d even agreed on Kevin living with them. That in itself had faded into the background for him; now he had Jeremy in his lap, holding his face, with eyes full of love and terrible importance.

They kissed and held each other until true night rolled in, and Jean’s strict sleep schedule made itself known. It was only a few steps, but Jean walked Jeremy to the door, kissing him again before he left. There was a lot unsaid between them right now, but Jean trusted Jeremy’s instincts on that more than his own. They would work out the tangles. He would do anything and everything he had to for Jeremy, for this to work.

Before he closed his door, he noticed that Kevin’s was ajar. He was alone in there, in a strange room. Jean wondered if he was asleep - if he even could sleep.

After a moment of thought, he returned to bed, but left his own door open too.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to god the rest of the fic is wall to wall Kevin

Kevin was gone when Jean woke up. Even though he obviously had to leave early to get back to the hotel and change before practice, Jean had been hoping to catch him. Kevin was not a morning person. He’d made the bed - badly - and the room had the faint scent of finally being occupied.

Jean had a lot to think about that day, but practice was intense. The test game was coming up. It was more like a showcase, so fans could see the new signings and get a feel for how they would line up that season. It would be at an open air stadium in Central Park instead of either home stadium. As far as he was aware, the memorial for Riko would happen before the game.

Jean kind of wanted to talk to Kevin about that.

Jean was now in the habit of having lunch with a few of the backliners. They did most of their training together, and it was inevitable that some conversation would arise. They were a companionable bunch, who considered Jean one of them almost immediately. Jean tried to remember what Jeremy said about trust and letting people in, and did his best to contribute. Nick James, Liljana Harvey, Jan Berenson, and Alec Guyon were all a few years older than Jean. Jan was the oldest, and Jean was ostensibly there to deputise for him. Alec Guyon was from Quebec, and frequently teased Jean about his French. Alec could take a hit, though, and seemed to enjoy when Jean clapped back.

They were a nice group, and largely minded their own business. Jean realised he could have done a lot worse, and wondered if Jeremy would get along with them.

When he got home, Jeremy was already there. Jean’s heart leapt - this was totally unexpected. Embarrassingly, he felt himself getting hard automatically. Even more embarrassingly, Jeremy noticed.

‘We’re gonna have to fix that if Kevin’s going to be living with us,’ he said, with a big grin.

Jean sighed and let his bag fall from his shoulders dramatically. ‘The honeymoon is over,’ he said, flopping on to the couch.

Jeremy clattered around in the kitchen making a late lunch. While he waited, Jean fulfilled his daily obligation to Stephanie by checking his emails and responding to the ones she’d marked important.

That done, he leaned over the back of the couch and watched Jeremy work. He was still lean; Jean had been hoping that the time off might help him to put some weight back on. He’d gone quite gaunt around the time of their exams. Jean enjoyed watching Jeremy put together a sandwich loaded with all his favourites, then cut a third of it off and put it on a separate plate for Jean.

‘Thank you,’ Jean murmured, accepting it but not making a move to eat it.

He let Jeremy get in a few good bites before he opened the discussion. When the ravenous hunger had disappeared from his face, Jean said, ‘I’ve been thinking about it.’

‘Mmhmm?’

‘I just want to be sure you understand what Kevin and I living together might look like.’

‘And what might that look like?’ Jeremy mumbled, around a mouthful of sandwich.

Jean considered the best analogy. ‘Remember that video you liked of the two cats who are fighting because they keep swishing each other with their tails?’

Jeremy snorted. ‘Ok, fair enough,’ he said. ‘But consider this. You two know how to be alone together. If you want to fight, you can fight. I think Kevin will be on good behaviour around me for a while.’

‘And when he’s used to you?’

Jeremy shrugged. ‘Then he might be used to you too. I don’t mind tension between the two of you, Jean. I get it. So don’t worry about me. Can _you_ handle it?’

Jean truly didn’t know. The last time they had been living under the same roof, Kevin didn’t have a father or a broken hand. Jean hadn’t had a hope. They were different people now, more or less.

‘I think so,’ he said, trying to be honest. ‘For Kevin, I can try.’

Jeremy finished eating, then sat back with a contented sigh. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t stop thinking about him all day. He must be losing his mind in that hotel.’

Jean shook his head, slowly. ‘I don’t know how anyone allowed it. He is even worse at being alone than I was.’

Jeremy shrugged. ‘He’s an adult. It’s his choice.’

Jean didn’t say anything, but this is where Jeremy was naive about Kevin. It didn’t matter. He’d learn soon enough.

‘Will you tell him?’ he asked instead.

‘It would mean more coming from you.’

Jean tapped his fingers on the armrest. ‘Fine. I’ll call him.’

He set aside the plate and stood up. Jeremy watched him with sharp eyes, which brightened when Jean pushed in between his legs.

‘Later,’ Jean said, deliberately.

However, that phone call was put on the long finger, and Jean didn’t think about it for the next few days. He was starting to get a little nervous about the test match at the weekend. Theirs wasn’t the only one that would be taking place across the country, but it was of more importance for several reasons. For one thing, the citywide divide between Wanderers and Knights fans was legendary. The fans would be there, and they would be loud. For another thing, the test match was primarily so people could see what the new signings could do. None of the first string wanted to get nailed by a fresh face out to prove a point either, so Jean would likely be playing at least a full half with Jan Berenson, or “Bear” as they other backliners called him. Bear was 32, which was old for a backliner. His legs were starting to go, but he had years of experience. Jeremy was a fan.

Then there was the fact that Kevin would likely start for the Knights, and it would be Day vs Moreau that got top billing as usual. Fans of the pro and college leagues were usually two separate bodies, but in the last few years interest had begun to migrate to the pros as fan favourites graduated college and began their professional careers. And no one generated as much interest as Kevin Day.

He didn’t say much about it at home, but Jeremy could tell. In an attempt to diffuse the tension, he suggested having Kevin over for a proper meal. ‘Where no one is drunk or sad,’ he clarified.

He knew Jean still hadn’t told Kevin anything yet, and was trying to force his hand. Jean demurred again, but an idea began forming in his mind.

The night before the game, when he should have been having his high-calorie dinner and going to bed early, Jean left Jeremy studying - in summer! Already! - and slipped out of the apartment.

He got a train into the city but took a discreet taxi to Kevin’s hotel. He was wearing sunglasses and a dark baseball cap, but nothing could disguise the tattoo. Jean kept his face tucked into the collar of his jacket as he ran up the steps.

He already had the room number. The hotel was nice, but not swanky, and he kept his head down until he was standing in front of Kevin’s door.

Kevin answered wearing loose sweats and a white t-shirt. He looked surprisingly young, with tousled hair and slightly flushed cheeks. Jean felt a pull in his chest, leading him into the room.

‘Hi,’ he said, hands in his pockets. ‘Can we talk?’

Kevin let him in, still silent. Jean took in the room as he shrugged off his jacket. Kevin had always been a little untidy; the sheets on the bed were tossed, and he had shirts and things lying over chairs. A few drawers were pulled open, and there was a half-empty bottle of vodka on the dresser.

Kevin had done his best to spread his possessions out, maybe to make the room look more occupied. But it was a small space. A lonely space.

‘How are you doing?’ Jean asked.

Kevin was watching him closely. ‘Fine?’

They had never been any good at small talk.

Fighting the strange urge to be closer to Kevin than the small living space already forced them to be, he said, ‘I wanted to see you before the game tomorrow. There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.’

Jean sat on the bed, hoping Kevin would join him. But he leaned against the dresser instead, arms folded, looking away.

‘It was actually Jeremy’s idea,’ Jean went on. ‘I mean, I agree with him, but it was him that thought of it.’

He’d been hoping to spark Kevin’s interest, and he could see he’d succeeded. Kevin was looking at him now.

‘He thinks - I think, too - we think you should move in with us. We need a third roommate. The apartment is great but it’s going to bleed us dry. And you’re alone and going crazy and I can’t stand that.’

Kevin straightened up, suddenly intense.

‘What?’ Then, ‘No.’

The token refusal. Kevin was stubborn, but Jean knew this.

‘You prefer living here?’ he asked.

‘I’ll find somewhere else.’

‘Sure, where you’ll have more panic attacks and nightmares and there’ll be no one else to keep the voices away,’ Jean said, trying to keep his voice steady. ‘Who are you talking to, Kevin?’

Kevin’s brow pinched, and he looked away. ‘I sleep with the tv on,’ he muttered.

Jean’s anger dimmed as quickly as it flared. ‘I used to sleep with the radio playing on my phone,’ he admitted. ‘The times that Jeremy was out late. I could never fall asleep on my own.’

Kevin was shuffling his feet and avoiding Jean’s eyes. He needed more poking.

‘Jeremy hates that you’re here,’ he said. ‘He really wants to spend more time with you. And he’s so busy with school and friends - I hardly see him as it is - so if you’re, like, into seeing more of him, this is the best way to do it.’

Kevin’s expression softened, but he still didn’t look convinced. ‘It wouldn’t work, though,’ he said. ‘You and I. We play for rival teams in the same city. Someone would have something to say about that.’

Jean shrugged. ‘No one has to know.’

‘Ok, but _we_ \- ‘ he gestured back and forth between the two of them. ‘We would never work.’

Jean had been expecting that one, even if it stung a little. ‘It’s different now,’ he said. ‘No one’s … attacking us. We can help each other, instead of fighting. And Jeremy will be there,’ he added. ‘He’s great, Kevin, he really is. He makes it a home.’

When Kevin finally looked at him, his face was so uncharacteristically open and hopeful and Jean could hardly look back at him.

‘Just - at least think about it,’ he said. ‘I promised Jeremy I’d make you think about it.’

Kevin was nodding, but he looked like he was already deep in thought and had stopped listening, so Jean stood up to go. He’d hoped they’d be able to talk a bit - he wanted to start that up with Kevin, some normal talking - but maybe tonight wasn’t the night.

‘Good luck tomorrow,’ he said, over his shoulder. Mentally he was already on the train, wondering what album to lose himself in. When Kevin grabbed his arm, he jumped.

‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Wait, wait.’

Kevin’s grip was strong. Jean looked down, and saw that it was his bad hand. The ropy white scar stretched over the back of it. They never talked about it; how Jean had found him afterwards, sobbing and broken in more ways than one. How he’d helped him get out, and how one of the consequences of that was Jean’s permanently crooked nose.

Jean looked back up. Kevin’s eyes were so bright green, so serious. Jean used to fall asleep blinking back at them.

‘Just wait,’ Kevin repeated, still holding on to him. ‘Stay.’

So Jean waited, and Kevin held on, and then Jean put a hand on his shoulder and then his neck. Sometimes he’d he look at Kevin and be scared to death that the next hit he took would shatter him.

‘Tomorrow, after the game,’ he said. ‘You come home with us.’

‘Does he …’ Kevin swallowed. He was very good at keeping his face expressionless, but it was all bare in his voice. ‘Does he help you be better?’

After a moment’s thought, Jean said, ‘He helped me figure out how to start. And he’s there for me when I forget why I keep doing it.’

Kevin’s grip tightened. ‘Can you do that for me?’ he whispered.

Jean truly didn’t know if he could.

‘I can try,’ he said. ‘If you let me.’

Kevin gripped him so tight it was painful - and then he let go, and stood back.

‘Ok,’ he said. ‘Let me - I’ll talk to - ’

‘Jeremy,’ Jean said. ‘Talk to Jeremy. Call him. He’ll help.’

He was so staggered by his own relief that he could barely find his way out of the hotel. He hadn’t realised this had meant so much until he’d done it. This felt like he was putting something together that he’d lost so long ago. Something that had been taken from him. Jean was going to get it back.

*

The morning of the test match dawned bright and sunny. Not ideal conditions. Jean would have preferred a dark, gloomy day. They were playing in the exhibition court, which was outdoors. The plexiglass was supposed to prevent glare or reflections, but no one liked playing with the sun in their eyes.

The Knights were a very strong outfit; the Wanderers had more money than accolades at this point, and were the definite underdogs here. In addition to that, no one was going to overstretch themselves in this game. It counted for nothing. But for players like Jean, who had a name to make and a point to prove, it could define how their season began. Playing scrimmage was one thing, but Coach was looking to see how they shaped up against a real opponent.

Jeremy was attending the game. Since Jean had no family, Jeremy was automatically his whole family and friends ticket allowance, which they were both keen to take advantage of. Unfortunately, Jeremy would have to make a few more contacts before he found someone to accompany him.

‘They call me a jock,’ he’d laughed, about his classmates. ‘I guess I’m not the typical demographic for the math department intake.’

Jean could imagine. He’d been flipping through Jeremy’s instagram one night, and found a group photo of them from their end of orientation night out. Even Jean could see they were nerds, one and all. Jeremy was by far and away the most attractive of the bunch. But they sounded nice, and he was clearly enjoying their company, which was all that mattered to Jean.

He left for the training ground early, leaving Jeremy asleep in his bed. He pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and then the soft curve of his shoulder, but pulled back before Jeremy could wake properly. He’d been up late studying, then up later with Jean. He was already working hard and school hadn’t even begun.

Jean had begun cooking for both of them, or meal-prepping his own dinners so that he could make Jeremy something nice each night. He loved to see Jeremy coming home, tired but happy, and his face lighting up as Jean gave him a kiss and said dinner was almost ready. It made Jean feel good to be someone who could take care of Jeremy, and make things nice for him.

After a light morning of drills and a protein-rich lunch, it was off to Central Park. Excitement was thick in the air, even among his own teammates. Jean himself had retreated to that quiet place inside himself where he forgot everything else that distracted him from playing the game and making his money. He wasn’t much fun to sit beside on the bus, so he sat beside Jan Berenson, who preferred to listen to music.

Some might have interpreted Jean’s silence as nerves, but now that the event had arrived he truly wasn’t nervous anymore. He had a job to do, and he was perfectly capable of doing it.

He hadn’t heard from Kevin, but that didn’t worry him. With Kevin, exy always came first.

As predicted, Jean was in the starting lineup, alongside Liljana Harvey. She was their regular starter, their most reliable backliner, and exactly who Jean wanted beside him for his first game. Fellow newcomer De Jong had also impressed enough to start over Evans, but dealers were cycled more regularly than other positions, so he would probably only play the first quarter.

The crowd was lively, enjoying the summer sunshine. Yet another reason why Jean didn’t like playing outside. The inside of the court was climate controlled, but again, there was really nothing you could do about the sun.

He was itching to get out there and burn off his energy. The sooner it was over, the sooner he could see Jeremy, and talk to Kevin. But first, the memorial.

Jean tried to zone out, he really did. But the minute they started talking about Riko, praising his achievements and lamenting his loss, Jean’s blood started to boil. The fact that Kevin had to stand here, on the other side of the court, listening to this shit, was nauseating.

Looking up, Jean found him. He was too far away to see his expression clearly, but Jean could imagine.

Finally, the applause ended and they were making their way out on to the court. Jean gripped his racquet in anticipation, now used to the heavy weight. He was already bigger and stronger than he’d been when he’d played the championship game. He could feel the weight of a thousand stares as he took up his position, but only cared about one.

They’d been warned not to go too hard, but neither Jean nor Kevin had ever learned how to play a friendly game. They went for each other hammer and tongs, matching each other’s pace and making the crowd scream. Every time Jean slapped the ball from Kevin’s racquet - every time Kevin made some impossible twist to get away - they roared. Jean’s team moved seamlessly around him, interpreting his moves and waiting ready for his passes.

There were a few clunky moments, and Jean found it a challenge to play against a whole new set of players, who lined up very differently. Lots to learn, much to improve upon. When he came off at half time and was told he was done for the day, he was almost disappointed. He watched the rest of the game with interest, discussing with the backliners as they rotated in and out.

The score was almost an aside. The Knights won by three points, but Jean felt he’d done his job in keeping Kevin quiet in the first half. Much to focus on. They wouldn’t meet again until November.

Jean headed back to the bus with the few others who hadn’t come back on in the second half, surprised to find himself deep in discussion with Evans and De Jong about the differences between college level and pro. They’d been largely keeping out of his way, having finally gotten a good enough look at his scars in the locker room, but evidently playing a proper game together had broken down some barriers.

After a brief assessment and warm down at the training ground, they were released. Normally the post-game debrief would be a lot more extensive, but the mood was high and there has been no injuries or serious errors. The backliners were going for a meal and invited Jean, but he declined. To his surprise, De Jong and Evans also extended an invite. That one was a little harder to turn down; he’d found their company oddly stimulating. But it had been all about exy, and Jean tired of that quickly.

And of course, he had Jeremy waiting for him.

They’d agreed to meet in Queens, but Jean found a text from him as he was leaving the ground. He was at the station.

 _Reckless_ , Jean thought, with a small smile. He bid a quick farewell to the others, who were organising things. Next time, for sure.

He spotted Jeremy dawdling beside the turnstiles. God, he looked good. His hair was pushed back, the way he’d done it for graduation, and he was wearing a tight black t-shirt and Wanderer’s cap, one of the black ones with the little blue bird. Jean fought very hard to keep a straight face.

It was difficult, too, to not take him by the arm and kiss him, especially when he looked so goddamn tasty. He contented himself by putting his hand on the back of Jeremy’s neck.

‘You look good,’ he murmured in his ear.

Jeremy smiled, not looking at him. ‘So do you. And you looked great out there today.’

‘Mm.’

‘How did it feel?’

Jean lifted one shoulder. ‘Not so bad, actually.’

Jeremy turned that smile on him. ‘Good. Hungry?’

They went further afield than normal for dinner, but it was worth it. They held hands and bumped knees, and Jean didn’t worry how it might look when he gazed at Jeremy like a lovestruck fool across the table. The one concession he made was to keep the tattooed side of his face away from the windows.

‘Have you talked to Kevin today?’ Jeremy asked him over dessert. Jean had no real taste for sweets, so they split a hot fruit crumble with ice cream.

Jean shook his head. ‘He said he was going to contact you. Maybe he hasn’t had time.’

Well, he hadn’t really said that.

‘Maybe I should call him?’ Jeremy suggested.

Jean smiled. ‘That might be good.’

He let Jeremy take it from there. He’d gotten Kevin to agree, but he was no good at cajoling or being persuasive. Jeremy was able to sweet talk Kevin on the phone, then dragged Jean over there to help him move.

Jean could tell from the look on Jeremy's face that the little hotel room saddened him just as much as he’d thought it would, but he didn’t say anything that would put Kevin’s back up. Kevin, already packed, was silent for most of the trip. All he needed was someone to help carry the bags with him.

It was a relief to be home. Jean would have been awkward and quiet too, but Jeremy wouldn’t allow it. He pulled them both into casual conversation, commenting on this or that, reverting back to exy whenever Kevin drifted. He got them through unpacking and the brief apartment tour, then collapsed in a heap on the couch and asked Jean to take his shoes off for him.

Amused, Jean indulged him, running his hand over Jeremy’s bare ankles as he did so. Too late, he remembered Kevin. His eyes met Jeremy’s as they both arrived at the same thought; they’d neglected to tell Kevin anything about their relationship.

But Kevin was off in his own world, pouring a litre of water down his throat as though he desperately wished it was something stronger. Jean knew it would have to be a conversation eventually, but maybe they could get away with it for a little while longer.

Over the next few days, things began falling into an unexpected sort of rhythm. Despite his inability to be alone, Kevin was a solitary creature by nature. He would sit in his room reading or watching something on his laptop, but he would leave the door open. He wandered around the apartment with earbuds in, and would sit on the couch in silence while Jean and Jeremy moved through their own lives around him. It might have been off-putting if it was anyone else, but it made a strange sort of sense for Kevin.

Jean knew for certain that Kevin was calmer here. He could see it in his shoulders, and in the tone of his voice. He had spent years of his life studying Kevin, and even after their time apart he was still an expert.

‘Do you really think he’s happy?’ Jeremy asked him one night in bed. They were in Jeremy’s room, as Kevin still slept with the door open.

‘Kevin doesn’t really _do_ happy,’ Jean said. He’d wondered how to explain this to Jeremy several times. ‘I don’t think he’s there yet. But he’s doing much better than he was before, if that’s any good to you.’

‘It is. What do you think of him as a roommate? Is it what you thought it would be like?'

Jean shifted back against Jeremy's chest. 'Well, he's no Gary ...'

Jeremy laughed, deliciously, and Jean was satisfied.

Jeremy's back was against the headboard, and Jean was between his legs. He liked to run his hands down them, marvelling at how this part of him, at least, mirrored Jean’s. He had the same bumps and shiny patches of skin from skidding on the court. The same muscles, still strong from a lifetime of training and running the same drills. He even had a scar now from his knee surgery, though his was neat and linear.

‘How do you think he’ll react when we tell him about us?’ Jeremy asked.

Jean shrugged. ‘He may not care,’ he said. ‘Kevin’s never had any interest in romance. Even when he was secretly dating Thea, I think it was more the rush of doing something forbidden.’

Jeremy stroked Jean’s hair. ‘What about with you?’

‘What about with me what?’

Jeremy hesitated. ‘It just sounded to me like you two had something.’

Jean blinked. ‘We were never … together,’ he said. ‘You’re my first in every way.’

Jeremy put a hand to Jean’s cheek, and Jean wished he could see his face. ‘I know that. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t love you at one point.’

Jean had never applied that word to the two of them, but he could see where Jeremy was coming from. How it might look that way to someone who had only heard parts of an old story.

‘We cared very much about each other,’ Jean said. ‘We were … important to each other. Crucial. That’s changed now. We’re still figuring out how to be friends.’

He didn’t want to say it was never love. He wouldn’t speak for Kevin. Was it love to stare into someone’s eyes so hard because you wanted to see them in your dreams, and not the darkness of bad memories? Was it love to crave his touch, when you’d never had a kind one in living memory? Or was it merely a desperate survival instinct, the strongest one he had, keeping him sane at any cost?

Jean didn’t know. Sometimes, when he went swimming, he closed his eyes and let himself float to the bottom of the pool. It felt like a safe place for figuring things out. But at the end of the day, all he knew now was that he had a family that wouldn’t abandon him. And even though the bad thoughts were always lurking, eager to tell him how it would all go wrong because it always went wrong for Jean, because he was unlovable and disposable and forgettable, Jean still let himself float in the pool and think about Jeremy saying how he had changed him, and how Kevin had gripped his arm and asked him to stay.

Jeremy was running his hand down Jean’s chest now. ‘Do you mind if I ask again ... How far did you two go?’

His voice was casual, inquisitive, but Jean felt the stirring of interest in his own abdomen. They’d opted for quick hand jobs under the covers that night - hadn’t actually had full sex since Kevin had moved in. Jean had a tendency to rattle the headboard, and they had yet to test out how soundproof the rooms were.

‘Oh, you know,’ Jean said, slowly. ‘Sometimes, in the dark, we’d reach for each other. It was easy to pretend like it wasn’t happening. He’d pull the strings of my pants and reach his hand inside …’

It really didn’t take much to get Jeremy going. Jean could feel him hardening against his back.

‘Never mind,’ Jeremy said quickly.

‘It’s ok,’ Jean murmured.

‘No. It’s not fair to him.’

Jean rolled over and pushed Jeremy down in the bed. ‘It’s my story, too,’ he pointed out, before pressing a hard kiss to Jeremy’s neck. ‘Would you like to hear how it ended? We never went the whole way, you know. Lack of supplies. We had to get creative.’

As he talked, Jean began to spin the narrative a little. Jeremy was breathing fast, responding to his touch as much to his words. Jean slipped a finger inside him and caught the end of Jeremy’s gasp on his lips.

‘We had to be quick,’ he said. ‘Anyone could have overheard us. I would push his legs apart, like this … and take him in my hand, like this.’

He pressed their lengths together, fisting them in one hand. The other hand he placed over Jeremy’s mouth, meeting his eyes the whole time. Jeremy grabbed the bedsheets, his body taut.

Jean pressed down upon him, whispering in his ear. He slipped a finger into Jeremy’s mouth just as he was about to come, because that sound was just too sweet to miss. As his cry took the shape of Jean's name, Jean felt something in his chest shatter.

‘ _Je t’aime,’_ he breathed, helpless, mouthing at Jeremy’s ear as he panted through his own orgasm. ‘ _Mon amour, je t’aime_.’

Jeremy gripped his hair and pulled him close, brushing their noses together. The look he got in his eyes when Jean brought him off like this was indescribable. Words failed him, but he was nodding jerkily and making soft, desperate little sounds in his throat.

Jean thought it might have worn off by morning, but when he woke up Jeremy was already waiting for him.

‘Didn’t you sleep?’ he asked, belatedly realising he should have gone back to his own room.

Jeremy, wide-eyed and serious, shook his head. ‘No,’ he said.

‘Why not?’

‘I love you,’ Jeremy said. ‘I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t let you leave without telling you. I love you.’

He looked a little wild. Jean touched his face in concern. ‘You waited up all night to tell me that?’

Jeremy nodded.

‘Was it worth it?’

Jeremy nodded again.

Jean rolled over on top of him, covering his whole body with the length of his own. He kissed him deeply, feeling like his heart might burst, with absolutely no way to convey that other than to kiss him.

Leaving him there was dreadfully hard. Jean skipped his whole morning routine just to enjoy him a little longer, running out the door twenty minutes later than usual and calling a taxi on his way downstairs. He made it to the training court with a minute to spare and suffered a morning of teasing to rival anything Laila or Alvarez could come up with.

He knew he was floating around with a smile on his face, hair ruffled and lips swollen. Anyone else might get away with that, but Jean was a habitual scowler with a perpetually neutral expression. Even Luna ribbed him gently, before putting him through a gruelling session to wipe that silly smile off his face.

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered, because Jean had known what love was all along.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you saw me add an extra chapter no you didn't

They still had a few more hot weeks left of summer before everything began in earnest. In August, Jeremy took a week off to go home and visit his family. He asked Jean several times to go with him.

Jean, deeply conflicted, eventually told him no. Technically, he was entitled to a little time off between now and the start of the season. But he felt uneasy about leaving Kevin at this stage. It would feel too much like ditching him.

In a normal world, Jeremy would either invite both or neither of them. Only inviting Jean mean they would have either to tell him about their relationship and make him feel left out, or not tell him and make him feel abandoned.

So Jeremy headed off, and Jean and Kevin spent an awkward week getting on each others nerves. They moved around each other like cats; Jean couldn’t figure out if Kevin wanted his company, or if he just needed him to fill the space. So he avoided, and Kevin bristled because he knew it, and the whole thing was a disaster and probably all Jean’s fault.

‘How are things?’ Jeremy asked him on the phone, two nights before he was due home.

‘Uhh,’ Jean replied. ‘We miss you.’

Jeremy snorted. ‘Oh no. Are you two fighting?’

‘No,’ Jean said, a little uncomfortable. ‘I thought, of all things, we would have remembered how to be alone together. I guess it’s different now.’

Jeremy murmured sympathetically. ‘And here I thought you two might have started having an affair.’

‘You don’t sound like you’d be disappointed if we were.’

Jeremy gave a little laugh. ‘I don’t know. It wouldn’t be as though you went out and found some guy at a bar.’

Jean shuffled around in bed, trying to formulate a response based on what he knew of Jeremy.

‘Do you like the idea of it?’ he asked. ‘Me and Kevin?’

Jeremy didn’t answer right away, and that told Jean all he needed to know.

‘I can hear you smiling,’ Jeremy said.

‘Mhmm. You do, don’t you?’

Jeremy sighed, exasperated. ‘I - look. He’s an attractive guy. You are extremely attractive, obviously. And I …’

‘You are a beautiful man,’ Jean murmured.

Jeremy was silent for a moment. ‘You are too kind,’ he murmured.

Jean smiled to himself. ‘So, what do you really think about Kevin?’

‘This isn’t a conversation we should be having over the phone.’

‘Do _you_ like him?’

‘Jean.’

‘Are you attracted to him?’

Jeremy hesitated. ‘I …’

‘Jeremy,’ he said. ‘I’m not mad. I’m actually pretty aroused.’

Jeremy laughed, but it was nervous laughter. ‘Lets not talk about this on the phone,’ he said again. ‘Please. I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings.’

He sounded a little distressed, so Jean decided to leave him be. ‘I love you,’ he reminded him, before they hung up.

‘I love _you_ ,’ Jeremy said, passionately. It left Jean quite flustered.

When he eventually came home, the relief in their apartment was palpable. In a burst of the strangest affection, Kevin took Jeremy’s bag and then gave him a quick but fierce hug. Jean watched behind his back making a face that had Jeremy blushing.

They couldn’t kiss with Kevin there, so Jean contented himself with squeezing Jeremy’s ass with absolutely no expression.

‘I’ll get you for that,’ Jeremy murmured, squirming out of his way. Jean just murmured in acknowledgement and moved swiftly out of slapping range.

That night, Jean pinned Jeremy down in his bed and bit hungrily at his neck. The week had been almost intolerable; no Jeremy, and an angsty Kevin. Jean had missed him viscerally, especially at night.

Once he had Jeremy good and wound up, he murmured into his ear, ‘Now, tell me again about Kevin.’

Jeremy groaned underneath him, writhing. ‘Oh, come on.’

‘No, no. Tell me.’

‘Jean …’

‘Would you like _him_ on top of you?’

‘No - _no_.’ Jeremy snapped out of it, eyes widening. ‘Jean, come on.’

‘It’s ok,’ Jean said. ‘I’m not trying to trap you. I’m honestly asking.’

‘I am attracted to _you_. You’re the only one I want on top of me,’ Jeremy said, blushing furiously.

Jean had never learned any of the social norms that most people paid attention to. Now that he was out here and aware of them he found them quite restrictive, and didn’t know why anyone subscribed to them.

That being said, he could understand why Jeremy would be reticent, but he couldn’t stop the idea from swirling around in his head. Exy gave him far too much time to think.

They still hadn’t decided what to tell Kevin. While they had always assured each other that things like holding hands in public weren’t important to them - and even if they were, Jean suspected that Jeremy would never tell him - not being affectionate in their own home was beginning to grate a bit. But they both worried about how Kevin would react.

In the last week before the season started, David Wymack came to see Kevin. It was a strange time for it - he would be gearing up for a new year at Palmetto - but Kevin had been looking particularly anxious as he ghosted around the apartment, so neither of them questioned it.

In fact, they decided to take advantage of it. On the last day of Wymack’s visit Kevin was to be out all day with him, going directly from training. Which meant that Jean rushed home directly after his own, and found Jeremy waiting.

After several hours of headboard banging, they finally burned off all their repressed sexual energy. Jeremy was so wonderfully passionate and energetic in bed. Jean shouldn’t have been surprised - he was like that in real life - but it shook him to pieces every time.

Jeremy’s bed was the only place where Jean ever found religion.

‘God,’ he breathed, lying on his back. Jeremy’s body was pressed, hot, against him. So fucking hot. ‘God.’

Jeremy gave him a weak slap on the leg. ‘Hell yeah.’

They laughed weakly as sense began to return. They really had been dreadfully loud.

‘I don’t even want to look,’ Jeremy said. ‘But I know that wall is dented all to hell.’

‘I’ll add “security deposit” to my list of expenses,’ Jean said, dryly. ‘You want some water? I’ll get you some water.’

Jean gave himself a cursory wipe with the sheets before stumbling out into the hallway, limbs still weak and wobbly. Upon stepping into the living room, he noticed Kevin sitting on the couch with his arms folded.

Jean paused. That he was naked was not the greatest issue. Kevin had seen him naked many a time. However …

‘How long have you been here?’ Jean asked, slowly.

‘About hour,’ Kevin replied, shortly. ‘Dad had to go back to Palmetto. Some drama with Neil and the new kid.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Mm.’

Jean took another stab at saving this. ‘So … I suppose you heard…’

‘I did.’

‘That’s not - you don’t know him - ’

‘I’m actually very familiar with Jeremy’s voice,’ Kevin said.

‘Ah.’ Jean took two steps back and rapped on the bedroom door. ‘Jig’s up,’ he called.

Jeremy must have fallen from the bed as soon as he heard Jean talking to someone. He appeared ten seconds later, fully dressed, looking wretched. He took a quick second to visually scold Jean for his nakedness before turning to Kevin.

‘Man, I am so sorry,’ he said. ‘We should have told you. You didn’t deserve to find out like this.’

It was a heartfelt apology. It might have been more impactful if Jeremy hadn’t still been hoarse, but that was just Jean’s opinion.

‘It’s fine,’ Kevin said, quietly.

Jean observed that he definitely didn’t look fine.

‘We can talk about it,’ Jeremy said. ‘And we - look, we thought you were going to be gone all day, I swear we’d never normally - ’

‘It. is. Fine,’ Kevin gritted out.

‘Hey,’ Jean said sharply.

Jeremy touched his arm to silence him. ‘No, it’s ok. Kevin, you have a voice here. This is your home too. If we’re making you uncomfortable, you have to tell us. I swear, I want you to.’

‘Please,’ Kevin said. ‘I shared a room with Andrew and Neil for a year.’

It was all lovely, well-meaning stuff from Jeremy, but Jean could tell Kevin was in absolutely no mood. Strangely, he seemed to be more annoyed at Jeremy than Jean. He’d been sort of bemused before Jeremy had come out of the bedroom.

‘Maybe later?’ Jean suggested, talking to Jeremy but looking at Kevin.

Jeremy looked upset, which made Jean mildly furious. They’d been so happy just a few minutes ago.

‘Ok,’ said Jeremy, softly. ‘Sure.’ He glanced at Jean, closed his eyes briefly, and said, ‘Please put some clothes on.’

Jean shrugged, unfazed. ‘He’s seen me looking worse.’

He retreated nonetheless, if only to ease Jeremy’s anxiety. Before he entered the bedroom, he paused and looked back. He’d caught the tail end of a look between Jeremy and Kevin that intrigued him.

Jeremy was already making for the shower, presumably with his ass clenched. Jean saw Kevin’s gaze following him, turning from indecipherable to something full of pure, naked longing.

Jean wasn’t surprised. In fact, it made a lot of sense. Kevin had always been Jeremy’s biggest fan; he was handsome, good-hearted, honourable, studious, and fair. All of those things Kevin got hard for. As well as being so very unfortunately into sports.

Jean loved all those things about Jeremy too - he actually loved him in spite of the sports - but they really ticked all of Kevin’s boxes.

Jean pulled on a pair of shorts and headed back out into the living room. The shower was indeed running, and Kevin was rattling around the kitchen trying to act like he wasn’t half hard.

‘Hey. Don’t talk to him like that,’ Jean said.

Kevin rounded on him, and all that repressed emotion surged to the fore. ‘Like what? Don’t _look_ at me like that.’

‘You were rude.’

‘Yeah, well, you guys were kind of rude.’

‘He told you we didn’t think you’d be home.’

‘You’ve been lying to me since I got here.’

Jean shrugged. ‘He didn’t want to. I knew you’d throw a fit. So here we are.’

Kevin glared. His hair was messy and his green eyes were ablaze. ‘Feeling like a bit of an idiot here, Jean.’

‘Yeah, well, what else is new.’

Jean just couldn’t help riling him. He watched the spots of colour appear on Kevin’s cheeks, the little huff of annoyance lifting his shoulders. It looked good after so many years watching Kevin repress his emotions and stifle his anger, saying yes to Riko and no to everyone else.

Then, abruptly, the fire dimmed. Kevin’s shoulders dropped.

‘Is it serious?’ he asked, with the air of a man asking his doctor for a prognosis.

Jean folded his arms and leaned back against the counter. ‘Yes,’ he said.

‘How long has it been going on?’

‘A while. Physically, just since we moved here. But … it was there for a while.’

Kevin digested this for a very long moment. Just when Jean thought he was about to say more, the bathroom door opened, extractor fan roaring, and Jeremy emerged. He was, to Jean’s amusement, fully dressed again, and retreated quickly to the bedroom without looking at either of them. Jean went to follow him, but the look on Kevin’s face stopped him. It was something just north of anguished, and only for a moment. But Jean saw enough.

It was Friday. Jeremy had a friend thing that night that he was clearly trying to get out of, given the events of the afternoon. Jean, never very good at insisting for his own sake, was quite able to do it for Jeremy.

‘Season starts tomorrow, you’ll be watching the games all day,’ he said, lying on Jeremy’s bed and watching him throw shirts around. ‘I know you want to go.’

Jeremy, who rarely lost his cool, was looking rattled. ‘I think we fucked it up today,’ he said. ‘We were wrong not to tell him.’

Jean made a face. ‘He’s just being dramatic. Josten and Minyard were fucking right under his nose for months, apparently. He didn’t care.’

‘So why did he look like he cared?’ Jeremy asked.

‘He was surprised.’

Jeremy shook his head, idly playing with the shirt in his hands. ‘I don’t think so.’

He looked at Jean, who shrank from that perceptive gaze. ‘What?’

‘Do you think he still has feelings for you?’

‘Kevin barely has feelings, period.’

‘Jean.’

‘It was never like that between us,’ Jean said, quietly. ‘I swear.’

Jeremy sat on the edge of the bed, and put his hand on Jean’s knee. ‘Maybe not for you,’ he said, softly. ‘Jean, what if he’s trying for a new start and this is just dragging up old memories? Old wounds? What if this isn’t the best thing for him?’

It was a valid concern. Jean suspected that Jeremy was only half right; Kevin had feelings for someone, but it wasn’t him.

But telling Jeremy that wouldn’t be useful right now. As kind and perceptive he was, he still didn’t know Kevin like Jean did.

Jean took his hand. ‘I understand what you’re saying,’ he said. ‘But out of everything that could be troubling Kevin right now, there are far worse things than hurt feelings.’

He levelled a sombre gaze at Jeremy; he didn’t want to bring the mood down even further, but he needed him to get it. The nightmares that plagued Jean were still very real. Kevin’s were too.

Jeremy gazed back at him. ‘I really don’t understand, do I?’ he murmured.

Jean tried a smile. ‘I’m glad you don’t,’ he said. ‘Leave Kevin to me, ok? I’m going to talk to him tonight.’ He leaned forward and touched Jeremy’s cheek. ‘Please don’t doubt us. We’ve done nothing wrong.’

Jeremy smiled back at him, and kissed the palm of his hand. They took a few minutes together, Jeremy curled up against Jean’s chest. When he pulled Jean’s shirt down an inch to kiss the scar on his collar bone, Jean’s heart flipped in his chest.

They did eventually shoo Jeremy out the door, Jean promising that if he came home sober or before 9pm he was going to send him back out again. It was wonderful to be able to bring a smile and a laugh to his face. Jean would give it all up as long as he could keep figuring out ways to do that.

Trying to keep things civil, Jean offered to cook dinner. He did penne alla vodka to whet Kevin’s taste for the alcohol he planned to ply him with later. He supposed that doing this drunk would have ramifications for tomorrow, but the odds on him starting the game were slim. And this would be infinitely easier while under the influence.

Jean had done most of the cooking for them while they’d been at the Nest. Kevin - always anxious, always watching Riko - would have forgotten, or been pushed down the pecking order. Jean had bulled his way through the others and made sure they both ate. Riko’s food had been prepared by a chef; the rest of them had had to make do with whatever was stocked in the communal kitchens.

Sometimes, Jean would be detained at the court, running some mindless drill until he couldn’t stand because Riko hadn’t liked the look of him that day. When he eventually dragged himself to the kitchen, all the food and the rest of the team would be gone - except for Kevin, who had foraged and loaded his own plate with enough for both of them.

Kevin accepted the dinner wordlessly, but clearly enjoyed it. Jean left him in peace while they ate. Kevin only spoke when Jean opened the vodka.

‘We have a game tomorrow,’ he reminded Jean.

‘If you start I’ll give you fifty dollars,’ Jean said, pouring them both small measures. They knocked them back wordlessly, and then Kevin pushed his glass back. This time, Jean added some juice - just because Kevin could drink paint thinner doesn’t mean he should.

’So,’ he said, as Kevin took a drink. ‘You want to fuck Jeremy.’

Kevin paused in the act of putting the glass down, and instead drained it. He put the empty glass back down on the table and said, ‘Shut the fuck up.’

Jean just drank from his own glass and said nothing.

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Kevin added, reaching for the bottle. Jean felt a twinge of sadness at Kevin’s resistance.

‘Since when did we start lying to each other?’ he asked, and Kevin hesitated. ‘When did we ever keep secrets?’

It was a low blow. Jean recognised now the need for individuals to have privacy, but it wasn’t their dynamic. It wasn’t how they’d been raised.

Kevin was drinking again, ignoring the juice.

‘Jeremy thinks you have feelings for me,’ Jean continued.

Kevin did choke a little at that, but drank through it.

‘You’ve always had a crush on him though, haven’t you?’ Jean pressed. ‘You admired him. I guess you guys were friends in a way that we weren’t.’ A thought occurred to him. ‘Do you hate me? Because I’m with him?’

‘Don’t be dramatic, Jean,’ Kevin snapped. ‘I can’t hate you.’

‘How _do_ you feel then?’ Jean reached for the bottle in frustration.

Kevin rubbed a hand over his face, then into his hair. His bad hand. Jean’s eyes tracked it as it ran down Kevin’s neck before returning to the table.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Kevin said, at last. ‘He’s with you.’

That confirmed everything that Jean had suspected. God, he wished he could just simplify all of this - push the two of them together and make them happy - but Jeremy had these weird principles, and things were never simple with Kevin.

Someone else would do a better job of this, Jean recognised, vaguely. His people skills were severely underdeveloped.

‘I love him,’ Jean said, looking down at his hands so he wouldn’t have to look at Kevin’s. ‘I do. He loves me too. I’ve never had that before, will probably never have it again. I’m not trying to give it away.’

Kevin gripped the glass a little harder. The white scar on his hand stood out in sharp relief. ‘Great. Happy for you.’

Jean thought he might be, deep down, underneath all of those hurt feelings. He thought Kevin might have had enough love for him leftover from their childhood to want this for him.

Maybe just not _this_ , specifically.

‘I’m not trying to be an asshole,’ Jean said. ‘Just hear me out.’

‘Why would I want to hear this?’

‘Because you’re happy and I don’t want to see you unhappy.’

The alcohol had loosened his tongue. Jean had less tolerance for the hard stuff than Kevin, but he poured another to keep up.

‘That’s just a permanent state of being,’ Kevin said.

‘Oh, don’t be miserable,’ Jean said. ‘We spent so long being miserable.’

Kevin sighed angrily. ‘What the fuck do you want from me, Jean?’ The veins in his bare arms stood out as he tensed. The alcohol had affected more than Jean’s tongue.

‘Ok, I’m sorry. Let me get to the point,’ he said. ‘Jeremy likes you too.’

Kevin grunted noncommittally.

‘As in, he wants to fuck you.’

Kevin slammed the glass down. ‘Can you STOP fucking with me?’

Jean collapsed over the table. This was hopeless.

‘Now who’s being dramatic,’ muttered Kevin, darkly.

They drank in silence for a while. Jean only sipped, melancholic. He didn’t know what Kevin was thinking, and only hoped he was digesting.

Finally, Kevin spoke. ‘Why would you say that to me?’

His voice was all wrong; little, and broken, like how they used to be.

Jean was resting his chin on his folded hands, pressed flat to the table. He glanced up. ‘When have I ever lied to you?’

‘You’ve been lying to me for weeks.’

‘I omitted. I never told you a lie. If you’d ask me was I sleeping with him I would have told you.’

‘It’s the same thing.’

‘You know it’s not.’

Kevin looked to be deep in thought. His brow was furrowed, his green eyes focused. Jean rarely ever got to study him like this; like how he had when they used to lie, nose to nose, feet tangled, too big for the bed. They had always made sure to maintain a careful disinterest in each other so that Riko never suspected how deep their relationship went. Living with Kevin now afforded Jean a valuable opportunity to feast his eyes, so to speak. Maybe it was the alcohol, but for once he didn’t shy away from it.

‘ _Why_ did you say that?’ Kevin asked, softly.

Jean raised his head. ‘Because It’s true,’ he said.

Kevin looked at him. ‘What do you want from me?’

‘I want you to be happy.’

Kevin stared, anguished. ‘How do you want me to do that? By sleeping with your boyfriend?’

‘He’s not _mine_ ,’ Jean said. ‘I don’t own him.’

‘Jean, please exist in the real word,’ Kevin snapped. ‘Even if I could, I can’t - take him from you. I’ve taken so much already.’

Jean stared. ‘What have you taken?’

Kevin’s expression twisted. He stood up abruptly, pushing back his chair, then moved angrily around the table towards the bathroom.

Jean caught his hand as he passed. Kevin yanked, but Jean held firm.

‘What,’ Jean said, ‘have you taken?’

Kevin refused to look at him. He glared at the far wall instead, but he pulled his hand out of Jean’s and reached out for him. Jean flinched as Kevin’s fingers touched his mouth, then his nose. His crooked nose that never healed properly.

‘I took a year of your life,’ Kevin said, in a terrible whisper. ‘More. I left, and didn’t even ask what it cost.’

Jean flinched again, pulling back from his hand. He stood up quickly, knocking his chair backwards, and caught Kevin’s arm.

‘You can’t think any of that,’ he said. ‘I did it for you.’

‘I was weak,’ Kevin said. ‘I ran.’

‘He broke your hand - ’

‘How many times did he push you down the stairs?’ Kevin demanded. His facewas very close to Jean’s. ‘How many times did he make you break your own fingers, Jean? How many times did he cut you?’

Jean jerked back. ‘Stop,’ he said, quietly. He didn’t think about those things. ‘That was different.’

Kevin’s face crumpled, and he shook Jean’s arm. ‘ _How_ was that different?’

‘He hurt us both,’ Jean said, his voice hard. ‘I was always good with pain. Cuts and bruises heal.’

He reached out and touched Kevin’s face, just for a second. Kevin did not flinch.

‘What he did to you was worse,’ Jean said.

Later, they found themselves sitting on the couch, side by side, the bottle of vodka between them. Kevin was an incredibly comforting presence beside him. His body remembered when it had had no comfort but this.

‘We never got to do this,’ Jean said. ‘Just hang out.’

Kevin mm’d a response. ‘Why don’t you like exy as much as me?’ he asked.

Jean burst out laughing. ‘That’s what you’re hung up on?’

‘One of the things.’

Jean laughed again, then shrugged. ‘I would never have been taken from my family if not for exy,’ he said. ‘I had no other skills. I was just a kid. But I was already too damn good at exy.’

Kevin went quiet. ‘Oh,’ he said, after a moment.

Jean glanced at him. ‘What? What did you think it was?’

Kevin glanced at him. ‘The obvious?’

Jean blinked. ‘Oh. But you never hated it.’

Kevin shook his head. ‘It’s the only thing that makes me worthwhile,’ he said. ‘The only thing that makes me feel powerful.’

Jean thought that was pretty sad. ‘That’s not why you’re worthwhile to me,’ he said.

‘It’s a little different for us,’ Kevin murmured.

‘That’s not what Jeremy cares about either.’

Kevin glanced at him. ‘Don’t bring that up again.’

Jean hadn’t forgotten why they were here. ‘You’re attracted to each other,’ he said. ‘I know what that’s like. To crave someone. I hate the misery it causes. And I don’t feel possessive of him. You don’t need my permission, Kevin. You just need his.’

‘He’ll never do that to you. Never.’

‘He will,’ Jean said. ‘It’s what I want.’

Kevin sounded thoroughly unconvinced. ‘I know Jeremy,’ he said, slurring a little now. ‘He would never cheat on you, even if you said it was ok.’

‘But it’s not _cheating_ ,’ Jean said. ‘Why can’t we make the rules for this? I don’t feel like something’s being stolen from me if Jeremy sleeps with you instead of me on a Tuesday.’

Kevin looked at him. ‘Wouldn’t you be jealous?’

‘You’re happy, he’s happy, therefore I am happy.’

Kevin was gazing at him now, with something like wonder in his eyes.

‘Would you feel jealous?’ asked Jean. ‘If Jeremy then slept with me on another night?’

Kevin shrugged, still looking at him. ‘I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.’

‘Jeremy is a wonderful person to be intimate with,’ Jean said. ‘But I worry about him. He works too hard, and sometimes he does what he thinks I need instead of what he wants. I try to take care of him. But I don’t like talking about exy, and I’m bad in crowds, and there will be nights that I’m away and he won’t have anyone to hold him. I don’t want that for him.’

Kevin looked at him uncertainly. ‘So, you want …’

‘I want to give him whatever he wants,’ Jean said, simply. ‘And he wants you, and me.’

And why wouldn’t he, thought Jean. Kevin’s face was beautifully proportioned. His eyes were a clear, strong green. Jean’s were pale grey, and cold. Kevin rarely smiled, but when he did it was something special. And he was intense, and passionate. He and Jeremy had been friends, had had a spark, long before Jean had come on to the scene.

‘You are both my family now,’ Jean said. ‘It just makes sense for you to be with him, too.’

Kevin was still staring at Jean when Jeremy’s key turned in the lock. They both swivelled their heads around; a smile crept over Jean’s face as Jeremy stumbled through the door, very drunk indeed.

‘Hey!’ he exclaimed. ‘You guys are having a party too!’

Too inebriated to care about propriety, Jean reached out for his hand. Jeremy took it, and let Jean kiss it. Then he sat himself down on Jean’s lap, sideways, so that his feet were draped over Kevin.

‘How was your night?’ Jean asked him, feeling boosted by his presence already.

Jeremy draped an arm around his neck and kissed his cheek. ‘Fun,’ he replied. ‘Lot of drinking. Glad to be home.’

Then he looked at Kevin. ‘How was your night?’ he asked.

Kevin swallowed. One of his hand rested on Jeremy’s knee. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Just fine.’

Jeremy nodded, smiling at him. ‘Good,’ he said, softly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two notes:
> 
> 1\. The rating has changed from M to E. Adjust your goggles accordingly  
> 2\. I read every single comment and they are all fuel for this polyamorous machine. Thank you so so much to everyone who's left a message, they're getting me through the weeks!!!!
> 
> Hope everyone's staying safe <3 I offer you this extra long sexy chapter for your souls

As predicted, Jean warmed the bench the next day. The first game of the season against a tough Baltimore team was not the time to unleash your new recruits, fresh out of college dorms. He didn’t mind too much, and learned a lot from watching the play. It was blindingly fast and tough. Jean found his hands twitching as he watched Harvey and Guyon swat opponents aside. Beside him, Bear laughed.

‘It’s hard to sit here when you’d rather be out there,’ he remarked, nudging Jean. ‘I know.’

Jean opened his mouth to deny it, but then thought twice. He was, I fact, unconsciously planning what he would do in their situations, and plotting tactics of his own. Now that he didn’t have to stress about this game, he was starting to see how the strategic element, at least, might become addictive.

He did get a run in the last quarter, when the game was more settled. Harvey, Guyon, and James had rotated; now they both came off for Jean and Bear. The crowd roared appreciatively; Bear was a fan favourite, according to Stephanie’s extensive dossier.

It felt good to get a run. Jean was used to playing full halves at least with the Trojans, and he’d started to get very restless. But he didn’t let himself get too giddy; he kept to his quarter, made his interceptions, and didn’t do anything silly. It was a good fifteen for him.

The Wanderers won the game by five, but it was a hard win. The fans were pleased, and the coaches even more so. After showers and a brief team talk, they were set loose. This time, Bear wouldn’t hear of him taking the subway home. ‘You have to get a car, buddy,’ he said critically. ‘The subway will be full of Wanderers fans.’

Jean shrugged. A car was so not in his budget, but he thought he could stretch to an Uber every other week.

Bear’s car was sleek, low to the ground, and fast. Jean assumed his knees would surely be up around his ears, but it was surprisingly spacious inside. Maybe one day he could get himself one of these. He missed driving.

Jeremy had been at the game, but would still be battling the crowds to get home. Jean got a text from him saying he was getting them some good wine to celebrate their first wins. He’d also have to ditch the friend he’d brought along, a fellow math guy who had finally admitted an interest in sports. Jeremy had hopes for him.

Jeremy had readily agreed to keep quiet about who he lived with. He seemed content to keep his home and personal life separate, for now, at least. Their apartment was crowded enough as it was without exy fans, but Jean supposed it might be fine to have the occasional nerd over for cheese and crackers.

‘Do you call Jeremy a nerd to his face?’ Kevin asked him. Jean had been musing aloud on the subject as they both bustled around making pre-dinner snacks.

Jean made a noise of amusement. ‘No, but I should. His friends call him a jock.’

‘Wonder what’t they’d think of us,’ muttered Kevin.

They weren’t talking about last night. After Jeremy had come home they’d chatted on the couch for a while, mostly about exy. Kevin had gotten a little shy with Jeremy suddenly in close proximity, even though he’d remained on Jean’s lap. There was also the fact that a drunk Jeremy was quite unable to keep his hands off Jean. No complaints there.

Kevin, usually so guarded with his expressions, had watched every movement hungrily. Jeremy might have missed it, but Jean had not.

They snacked on celery and peanut butter while they waited for Jeremy to come home. They’d never been any good at small talk, but it was a companionable silence now, rather than the awkwardness of before. Kevin was stretching out a kink in his muscles; in between bites of celery, he would pull his arms behind his back and push his chest out, a little crease in his brow. Jean watched him, distracted, wondering when some of Kevin’s hard lines had started to curve.

When Jeremy came home, booze in tow, they got started on dinner. Jean thought he would be irritated by the extra bodies around while he was trying to cook, but instead he found it quite companionable brushing shoulders with Jeremy and Kevin as they chopped and washed and mixed. Jeremy dabbed tomato sauce on Jean’s cheek and teased Kevin about his garlic chopping abilities. Jean was amazed to see a rare smile on Kevin’s face; Kevin didn’t usually enjoy being teased.

Finally, they had a feast of vegetarian lasagne with garlic bread and salad. It was Jeremy’s mother’s recipe; by the end of the meal, Jean wanted to ask for her address so he could send her a card.

‘I’ll pass on your regards,’ Jeremy said with a grin. He was looking warm and well fed, a glass of very good red wine in his hand. Kevin looked content too, and sleepy. He didn’t have much of a taste for wine, and was sipping a vodka soda instead. Jean figured there was only so much he could do on that front.

Jeremy and Kevin had discussed the games at length over dinner; afterwards, they moved to the couch to watch the highlights program. Jean usually hated match highlights - so much bluster and incorrect speculation - but he sat with them to be companionable.

Kevin was at his most animated when watching exy, and in the glow of Jeremy’s presence he was even better. They argued back and forth over this team and that, discussing tactics and individual performances with interest and experience. Jeremy rubbed his bad knee occasionally; although it never showed on his face, Jean knew he missed exy very badly at times like this.

Jean drowsed in his favourite chair, lulled by the familiar sounds of exy and their voices. By and by, he returned to some awareness as the sound of their voices faded.

Jean cracked one eye open. The chairs were at an angle, so he could only see Kevin’s face and Jeremy’s back. Kevin was wide awake, eyes huge and startled. Jeremy was sitting right beside him, his body turned towards him and stiff with tension.

Kevin’s chest heaved. Jean wondered if he’d missed the actual kiss - but no, he couldn’t have. When Jeremy kissed, his ears went pink. When Kevin kissed… it had been a very long time, but Jean still remembered that in the heat of the moment, his neck would flush.

They remained motionless, staring at each other. Jean waited, trying to stop his lips from curling up in a smile.

Finally, he grew impatient. ‘Just kiss him already, for god’s sake.’

The effect was instantaneous. Jeremy looked like he might be having a heart attack.

‘Oh, calm down,’ muttered Jean, closing his eyes again.

‘Jean - I swear - ’

Jean groaned, rubbing his hands over his face and arching his back off the chair. ‘Jeremy, mon amour, please.’

He knew he’d ruined the moment, but clearly Jeremy still had the wrong idea about this. He looked incredibly guilty, and more than a little upset.

Kevin, however, did not. He was watching Jean, still breathing a little hard, but with a strange new look in his eyes. Kevin did know Jean better, after all. Or, maybe he just knew different parts of him.

Jean reached out for Jeremy’s hand. ‘Please,’ he said.

Jeremy took his hand, staring at him as though he were searching for something terribly important. Jean was searching for the words that would fix this, and turn that terrible frown upside down. But words were never his strong point.

Going on instinct, he squeezed Jeremy’s hand and then stood up. He leaned over where Jeremy sat, then took his face and kissed him, gently, on the mouth. Then, before he could second guess it, he turned to Kevin and did the same.

When he pulled back, Kevin’s face was pale, and less guarded. He looked almost confused.

Jean gave him a gentle pat on the cheek, then straightened up and stepped back. ‘I’m going to bed,’ he announced. He gave them both a quick smile. ‘Night.’

There was nothing more he could do. As Jean lay in bed, listening to the utter silence of the rest of the apartment, he was surprised by how badly he wanted this to work out. He didn’t know how or if it could ever work between him and Kevin - but it didn’t have to. He loved Jeremy, and suspected that Kevin did too, or was at least on his way to being in love with him.

It may only be attraction for Jeremy, and if that was the case they would have to rethink things. But Jean had hope. He knew Jeremy’s heart quite well.

As for why he wanted this to happen, Jean couldn’t say for sure. He only knew with deep certainty that it felt right in his heart. Jeremy was his; this he knew.

Maybe it was because Kevin had always been such an emotionally big part of his life. He’d been the only important thing to him for so many years. But Jean had never been any good at introspection - that was what his twice weekly phone calls to his therapist back in CA were for.

So Jean decided not to worry too much about it. Being happy was still a relatively new concept for him. But his instincts had kept him alive for this long; perhaps now they were working on keeping him happy.

So Jean let his brain populate the silence with warm thoughts of all the things that might be happening in the living room.

After a while, he heard them both going to bed. For once, Jean hoped Jeremy would not come into his bed, for it would be out of pity, or guilt - some strange urge to make up for whatever he’d done. But no one came knocking. He heard two separate bedroom doors close, too.

And then, one opened again.

With a little smile, Jean heaved his sleepy body out of bed and cracked his own door, too.

*

Post-game days allowed for a bit of a lie in. On another day Jean might have needed it, but today he was up at more or less his usual time, running the block.

His found that his head was completely clear. Despite the fact he hadn’t spoken to either Jeremy or Kevin yet this morning, he was entirely untroubled as he ran through a cool morning fog.

On the way back, Jean stopped at a tiny local bakery and paid for croissants and a coffee with his phone. He returned to the apartment about 90 minutes after he’d left it, and found Kevin doing yoga. All of the furniture was pushed back to leave enough space in the centre of the room. Jean was tempted to push him over, but all he could feel was tremendous fondness.

‘Morning,’ he called, setting the croissants down.

Kevin grunted in response.

‘Where’s Jeremy?’ Jean asked. Jeremy loved morning yoga.

Another grunt. Jean hid a smirk behind his coffee.

A few more sips of his coffee and Jean headed over to join him. Flexibility was something he was still trying to work on; he’d usually chosen to run through Jeremy’s morning yoga back at USC. Jeremy, as it turned out, was _very_ flexible.

He didn’t know any of the moves, so he just copied Kevin. Kevin took issue with this, and often paused to make irritable remarks, or push Jean’s limbs into position. Jean let him do it, finding that he quite enjoyed it when Kevin got bossy.

Jean gave up quicker than Kevin, collapsing on the mat and dreaming of croissants. Kevin stuck it out a little longer, even though Jean could see his legs trembling.

‘Give it a rest,’ Jean said, poking him gently.

With a great exhale, Kevin lowered himself down next to Jean.

For a few minutes they just breathed, enjoying the rest. Jean was just dying to know what had gone on after he’d gone to bed, but the moment was too nice to break.

Kevin inhaled deeply. ‘Did you bring … baked goods?’

Jean smiled. ‘Croissants. You haven’t eaten yet.’

Neither of them had, of course. Empty tummies were part and parcel of being a Raven, something that was hard to shake after a lifetime of conditioning.

Jean sliced up the croissants and put out bread and jam while Kevin brewed some tea for himself. Jean didn’t if Jeremy would want breakfast when he returned from wherever he was, but saying Jeremy’s name would break the spell between him and Kevin right now. He put two croissants aside, just in case.

They ate in companionable silence. With every passing moment, Jean’s curiosity grew. He’d even be willing to risk a fight at this point.

Finally, he had to ask. ‘So, did you two - ’

‘No.’

Jean blinked. ‘Ok, but surely you - ’

‘No.’

Jean frowned. ‘No, you didn’t kiss him or no, you’re not going to tell me?’

Kevin hesitated. ‘Oh, no - we did kiss. I just - ’

Jeremy grinned, punching Kevin lightly on the shoulder. ‘Good! How was it?’

Kevin looked furious. ‘Fine,’ he bit out. ‘Good.’

‘Did you kiss him, or do his math homework?’

‘What?’

‘You just don’t look very happy about it.’

Kevin shook his head. ‘I am so not used to you telling jokes.’

Jean nudged him. ‘Don’t change the subject.’

Kevin played with the end of his croissant, letting it crumble between his fingers. ‘It was different to how I thought it would be,’ he said, very quietly.

‘In what way?’

‘It felt … intense. Like he wanted it as badly as I did,’ Kevin admitted. ‘I didn’t expect that.’

He looked up at Jean swiftly, as though to gauge his reaction to this confession. Jean kept his expression carefully neutral, wanting to hear more of the story.

‘We didn’t go any further,’ Kevin said, ducking his head. ‘He wouldn’t.’

Jean’s lips twitched. ‘Figures,’ he murmured. ‘Did you want to?’

‘Yes.’

Jean laughed. ‘Good.’

Kevin looked at him incredulously. ‘How are you not jealous?’

Jean shrugged. It was too complicated to get in over breakfast. ‘I guess I’m not the type.’

It was only part one of their breakfast, of course. Growing exy stars needed protein, so they cracked eggs and made spinach omelettes with stacks of toast.

‘Where is that man?’ grumbled Jean, as they dug in. They’d have to leave for training in an hour.

Kevin shrugged. ‘He said he had to run errands.’

‘You saw him?’

‘Just for a minute.’

‘Was he …?’

‘It wasn’t awkward,’ Kevin said, shaking his head.

They left it at that. Jeremy still didn’t come home, so they washed up together and set off for training.

The mood at the training ground was buoyant. Everyone was geared up for a good season. First, they had to sit through the post-game team talk. There was lots to be said, and Jean zoned out for much of it. Luna would tell him what he needed to know.

His team-mates were in good form, and luckily attributed his own mood to exy and not the potential threesome he was imagining in his own depraved mind.

Jean couldn’t get it out of his head. He would never push Jeremy into something he really didn’t want to do - it might be that he didn’t want to sleep with Kevin, or would have no interest in a threesome. Jean tried to keep this information at the forefront of his mind, while at the same time helplessly imagining what it would be like to fuck both of them at the same time.

This, of course, made it a little hard to concentrate on backliner formations and the Reeves-Hawk manoeuvre.

Afterwards, Jean took a walk.His social skills had improved somewhat, but there had been lot of socialising recently. He roamed some quieter streets before getting a drink and having a sit down in a shady little park. After just about 5 minutes, he gave in and called Jeremy.

‘Are you home yet?’

Jeremy laughed. ‘Yes, hello, I am. You’re not.’

‘Went for a wander,’ Jean said, glancing around. ‘Where did _you_ go this morning?’

‘I … how soon can you get back here?’

Jeremy never did anything serious over the phone. He met Jean outside the building, a smile at the ready.

‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Come for a walk with me?’

Together, they strolled in the late afternoon sunshine. Jean was as incognito as he could be in a black Yankees cap and sunglasses. Unfortunately, he couldn’t help the Wanderers t-shirt or track pants, but the logo was fairly discreet on both. Jeremy pointed out that he too was wearing a Wanderer’s t-shirt.

‘Where did you even get that?’ Jean asked, with a laugh.

‘Oh, they sent it to you,’ Jeremy said. ‘But you already have like seven of them, so I took this one.’

Jean quite liked that.

‘So what were you up to this morning?’ he asked.

They wandered around one of the little parkettes Astoria had to offer. Joggers passed them by, parents pushed strollers, dogs were walked. Jean felt benevolent and good about them all.

‘I had to clear my head,’ Jeremy said, honestly. ‘I went to our study room at NYU and called Laila.’

‘In Connecticut?’

‘Yeah. She wasn’t super thrilled to get a call at 8am on a Sunday.’

Laila was about as much of a morning person as Kevin was.

‘And did she have any advice for you?’ He should have known Jeremy would turn to Laila. The two of them had been friends since they were seven.

‘Well,’ Jeremy mused. ‘She was certainly interested in the situation. Sworn to secrecy, of course. But it was good to be able to talk it out with her. She helped me see where you might be coming from.’

He shrugged, and glanced up at Jean. ‘I have to be honest, I still don’t really get it. I mean - I understand the concept. I’m not against that. But …’

He paused, then turned to Jean. He looked wary, and Jean saw that he was still concerned that Jean was giving up something. That, somehow, he was being taken advantage of again.

Sometimes, Jeremy was too careful with him.

‘You have had nothing in your life that was yours,’ Jeremy said, his eyes warm but serious. ‘You told me yourself. Everything was taken from you. I just want to be sure that you know … you know you can just _have_ this? What we have … it can just be ours.’

Jean gazed at him - this gentle, kind man, so concerned for him.

Maybe, if he had not known him so well - if Jeremy wasn’t so completely transparent - Jean would have been worried. Jealous, or afraid of losing him.

Maybe … if it had not been Kevin that Jeremy cared for.

‘I understand,’ Jean said, as carefully as he could. ‘I do. I’ve never had anyone take such … care … with me before, and I trust you. But I need you to trust _me_ when I say that I do want this for you. For us.’

Jean had no idea how deep that feeling ran. He could not see beyond the immediacy of it all. But then, he hadn’t been raised to think ahead.

Jeremy said, ‘Is it Kevin? Is it because of your history together?’

‘Now don’t you go feeling jealous.’ Jeremy was precariously close to the truth.

Jeremy smiled. ‘I really don’t. For someone who doesn’t talk much, you’ve sure got me convinced.’

Jean shrugged. ‘I talk more now.’

‘Well, may that as it be.’ Jeremy leaned in to Jean, and touched his fingertips to his waist. ‘You know, for almost as long as I’ve known you, I’ve never doubted that you cared about me.’

Jean blinked. ‘Really?’

‘Yes,’ Jeremy nodded. ‘I’ve always felt that I could trust you. Even when you were so … unhappy, and not yourself, I feel like I knew you. I know you now. And I still trust you.’ He took a deep breath. ‘So if you say that this is what you want, then I believe you.’

Jean, lost in Jeremy’s eyes, murmured, ‘And is it what _you_ want?’

Jeremy grinned that bright, toothy grin. ‘Uh, yeah. It is.’

Jean couldn’t help grinning back. ‘Well, good.’ Then he tried for a serious expression. ‘Now we just need to convince Kevin.’

*

Jean felt like he’d done his part with Kevin already, and told Jeremy that night in bed.

‘If you went into his room right now, he’d let you,’ Jean said, from between Jeremy’s legs.

Jeremy gave him an exasperated look. ‘You do know you’re still in me?’

Jean moved slightly to let Jeremy know he was very aware of that. ‘I wonder if he knows where you are right now.’

‘Can you focus?’ Jeremy demanded, pulling Jean down towards him again.

‘I’m very focused,’ Jean murmured against his lips. ‘Can’t you tell - ’ he moved his hips again ‘ - how focused I am?’

Jeremy stretched his arms up over his head and stretched. He smiled at Jean, a tantalising thing. ‘Mm. Tell me again.’

They no longer worried about Kevin overhearing them. Whenever Jean’s door was closed, Kevin took it as his cue to put in his earbuds. They almost exclusively had sex in Jean’s room now. Jeremy said it was to keep things in order, but Jean liked to think was so Kevin didn’t feel intimidated by Jean’s presence in Jeremy’s bed.

He didn’t normally have boastful thoughts. Being proud of anything in general was quite new to him. But as Jeremy’s smile turned to a moan of pleasure, as his back arched and fingers clutched Jean’s arms, Jean couldn’t help but think that, along with being able to select a good red wine, he was also getting very good at sex.

He pushed Jeremy a little harder that night, only because he’d been begging for it. Despite his own insistence that he would enjoy Jeremy having sex with someone else, he was having a hard time believing that Jeremy really wanted Jean to leave bruises on him.

‘That was one of your best,’ Jeremy breathed, afterwards. Jean hadn’t pulled out or pulled away - Jeremy liked when he stayed close. He could feel Jeremy’s heart thumping against his cheek.

He closed his eyes and revelled in the feeling of Jeremy’s body, in all the places that they touched. It made him very happy to think that, when he was away at the weekend, Jeremy would not have to sleep alone.

Game two of the season for the Wanderers would see them travel to Austin. It was a Saturday evening game; they would fly down on Friday morning. Kevin was also playing Saturday, but in New York. Jean hoped they’d win, so that they’d both be in a celebratory mood.

But even if they didn’t … Jean had spent a good deal of time whispering in Jeremy’s ear the night before about how he imagined it would happen. How he fantasised about it. He was now quite confident that the mere mention of Kevin’s name would inspire a blush or two. Surely they wouldn’t be able to resist.

He managed to forget about the two of them for a couple of hours, enough to play some exy. To everyone’s dismay, Guyon picked up an injury in the second quarter. A hamstring usually took a player out of the game for 6 weeks. Bear couldn’t play full halves, so Jean was suddenly called into action. It was thrilling; for the first time, the roar of the crowd didn’t startle him. The enormity of the situation - being unexpectedly subbed on in a game of huge importance - did not faze him. He faced his new opponent, who he had studied up and down, left and right, and felt the pull of a challenge between his teeth.

This new striker, however, clearly had not anticipated him. Tyranson was a slim, well-muscled runner, built like most strikers were. He did his best to dart quickly and give Jean the slip, but it became very evident very quickly that Jean was simply better than him. Soon, the dealer stopped going up Tyranson’s wing, because there was no point. Tyranson was incredibly sharp in front of goal, but Jean simply would not permit him to get a shot off. In fact, Tyranson spent almost two full minutes trying to get away from Jean, before eventually trying a sloppy shot that had the ball rolling along the ground - a cardinal sin for any striker. The crowd groaned, and that was it for Tyranson.

Austin had no answers after that. While Jean was sur that their next opponents would have Jean all figured out, it didn’t change the fact that they scooped the 3 points as well as a handsome 8 point lead. At the start of a season, it was a case of who blinked first amongst the main title challengers - the Knights, the San Antonio Tigers, and the Denver Bucks. Not many had put money on the Wanderers having a steely eyed gaze, too.

It was an unprecedented performance from a green backliner. Jean had apparently saved the game. He even had to do press afterwards, which he usually stumbled through by hamming up his accent so that they wouldn’t expect too much of them. But pro league journalists were not so much interested in rivalries and squabbles off the court. They wanted to know how the ins and outs of Jean’s thinking, how he’d felt coming off the bench and how he’d managed to keep Tyranson so quiet.

Back in the dressing room, it was all back slapping and jubilant singing. What had initially been a great blow for the team had turned into a triumph, a headline. Jean wasn’t sure Guyon would feel the same, but he was being assessed by the medical team and not available to give his opinion.

Jean was grateful to be able to retreat from that with Luna, and discuss what would come next. Normally that would be saved for the next-day debrief, but things were slightly different at an away game. Jean’s role was now going to change completely - even his training would change.

They stayed late, talking it through. Jean, bizarrely, was actually kind of excited. Excited enough that he didn’t remember Jeremy or Kevin until he was lying in bed, exhausted, listening to Bear snore in the next bed over.

Grabbing his phone, he found one missed call from Jeremy, and one text.

_“You’re a real celebrity now!! You were amazing - so proud of you. V horny as a result. But I’ve got a plan for that. <3 you, miss you.”_

Jean bit down on a smile. Jeremy, proud and horny. Surely Kevin would be on his way to his bed. It made Jean feel neither neglected or lonely, but comforted instead. He’d get to hear all about it when he got back. If he got to watch or join in at some point, all the better.

Jean drifted off to sleep, feeling like he was finally getting a break in life.

*

The team flew home the next morning. Jean was, bizarrely, still in exy-mode. Bear had some very good advice for him, and even Guyon wasn’t too sour - though he did mock Jean’s press-voice several times over breakfast.

Jean barely heard him. He felt like he’d woken up in a new world where up was down and exy was interesting. He wondered vaguely if this new priority would make him more attractive to Kevin and Jeremy.

‘You’re smiling,’ Luna observed, as she passed him on the plane. ‘You don’t normally do that?’

‘He’s had a good day,’ Bear said, beside him, grinning behind his newspaper. He was one of the only people Jean knew who still read newspapers.

Stephanie had been in touch, full of praise, promising dinner soon. Jean let her promise. He knew how difficult she was, managing her more difficult and high profile clients. He also knew he would likely be one of those one day. Let her enjoy a low maintenance charge for a while.

They arrived in New York around lunchtime, but enough of the day was gone to dampen his mood slightly. There had been no further communication from either Jeremy or Kevin.

All of his slightly anxious questions were answered the minute he walked in the front door of the apartment. His bag was barely on the floor before Jeremy was upon him.

‘Hello,’ he managed, between kisses. ‘This is nice.’

Jeremy slid his hands into Jean’s hair. ‘I missed you,’ he breathed. ‘A very stupid amount. What’s the deal with that?’

Jean had no answer but a silly grin. ‘Couldn’t say. Did you have a good evening?’

Jeremy gave him a wicked smile, slightly mitigated by his blush. ‘You could say that.’

Jean nuzzled his neck, enjoying the scent of his skin. ‘You’ll have to tell me all about it.’

‘Well, actually … we were were kind of hoping we could show you.’

It took Jean’s brain a moment to parse that particularly lovely sentence. He drew his head back to look Jeremy in the eye, a question forming on his lips. As he did so, he saw Kevin, lingering in the hallway leading down to their bedrooms. His expression was hesitant, but hopeful. His hair looked like Jeremy’s fingers had already been through it.

Jeremy followed his gaze, glancing around. The smile he gave Kevin was still on his face when he turned back to Jean.

‘What do you think?’ he murmured. ‘If it’s too soon - ’

‘No,’ said Jean, quietly. ‘It’s …’

Words, again, were pointless. Jean bent his head to Jeremy’s neck and kissed him on that sensitive pulse point. As he did so, he glanced up at Kevin, who was watching them without a trace of his previous shyness.

Jean let his hands travel south, squeezing Jeremy’s ass before slipping inside his sweatpants, just for a moment. He teased them both, testing the waters. He knew how Jeremy would react in his arms like that, but Kevin was almost an unknown quantity. It was exciting to have an aspect of Kevin that he’d never truly experienced. What they’d done as young boys didn’t really count. They were so different now.

Jean pushed Jeremy back into the apartment, gently pushing and pulling at him in all the places he liked to be touched. Little caresses, little hints. He kept catching Kevin’s eye until finally he took the hint and approached. Their fingers brushed on Jeremy’s hips, and then Kevin was kissing the other side of his neck

Jean had wondered if it might be awkward, at least in the logistics of the thing. But actually, it was incredibly simple. They listened to Jeremy, moving where he wanted them, and where they wanted to go. Jean slipped him out of his t-shirt and flicked his nipple playfully, getting a laugh out of him. Jean kissed his nose and caressed his face with a smile, and Kevin watched them with eyes soft and curious.

When they reached the bedroom, Jean gave Jeremy a little push towards Kevin. He stepped back to take off his own shirt, and forgot almost instantly how to do that because he was watching the two of them kiss. Kevin really did do everything like his life depended on it. He kissed Jeremy like he might never get another chance, his arms encircling his body and a little frown creasing his brow. Jean could tell Jeremy found it endearing, from the way his lips kept curving up into a smile.

Their bodies complimented each other, light and dark. Jeremy’s skin held a tan, but Kevin’s almost glowed white. The jet black of his hair contrasted with the sunshine threaded through Jeremy’s.

Kevin bit his lip gently, and Jeremy moaned and reached for his belt.

Feeling like either his heart or his dick was going to explode, Jean reached around Jeremy and undid Kevin’s belt for him. Kevin jumped a little and looked up at Jean with hot eyes, but Jeremy murmured and touched his face and levelled things out again. Jean pulled Jeremy back on top of him and let Kevin climb on top. He felt Jeremy shiver and shake, pressed against his chest, as Kevin pulled away his closed and kissed his chest before travelling down and taking him eagerly into his mouth. Jean could hardly keep his own mouth closed.

Whatever Kevin was doing, it was obviously different to Jean’s own technique. Less experienced, Jean thought, distantly. Jeremy was still enjoying himself, making little noises of pleasure and speaking every now and then, asking Kevin to do this or that. Kevin took instruction well - of course he did - but Jean had ideas of his own.

‘Slow down,’ he told Kevin, flicking his ear gently. That earned him a little complaint from Jeremy and a look that clearly said “fuck you” from Kevin. Not as threatening when your mouth is full of cock, but Jean appreciated the effort.

Rather than explain himself, he slid a hand under Jeremy and started to slide a finger over his hole. He’d already retrieved the lube from under his other pillow - clearly Jeremy had not noticed from the way his whole body jumped, pushing himself further into Kevin’s mouth.

‘Oops,’ Jeremy breathed in his ear. To his surprise, they were laughing. Kevin ruefully slapped Jeremy’s thigh before going down on him again. It was so interesting to watch how his body had changed since the last time Jean had seen him like this. Not that he’d ever really seen him like _this_. He moved with purpose, constantly looking up at Jeremy for approval, to see if what he was doing was being well received. Jeremy was vocal enough for two people, and kept reaching for them both, stroking their faces and playing with their hair. Jean kissed his cheek before slipping a finger inside him, working him with a little roughness, like he knew he liked.

As much as Jean was very much enjoying the show, he was desperately hard beneath Jeremy and needed to get more involved. Maybe another time he would be content to be a spectator, but this was too much. He started grinding the length of himself against Jeremy’s ass, sliding between his cheeks as he fingered him. Though poking Kevin in the face would be hilarious, it might just be a shade too far for Kevin at this stage, so Jean tried to maintain a measure of self-control.

Kissing Jeremy’s neck, he asked him quietly if he could fuck him. Jeremy actually preferred him to _tell_ him he was about to be fucked, but a precedent needed to be set for Kevin’s sake. God, he really had put a disturbing amount of thought into this.

Jeremy was almost at the babbling stage, gripping Jean’s hair and clenching around his fingers. Kevin was sucking on the head of his cock but now he pulled off, sitting back on his heels and watching with wide, eager eyes. He still looked so serious, Jean thought, feeling absurdly fond.

Kevin’s own cock was a hard outline in his underwear. As Jean lifted Jeremy up slightly and adjusted his legs, he took himself out and worked his cock slowly, his eyes never leaving them. Every time he met Jean’s gaze, even if only for a second, the flush on his chest deepened.

There were a million ways they could have done this, but Jean knew that Jeremy loved to be man handled like this. It also gave Kevin a pretty spectacular view. Feeling a little proud of himself, somewhere in the non-essential 10% of his brain, Jean angled his hips up and pushed inside.

It was an awkward angle, but the strength training and yoga was good for more than just exy. Taking Jeremy’s full weight on his chest, Jean thrust up inside him, using his thighs to keep them steady. Kevin was already hustling closer, reaching for Jeremy’s dick. Jean, who had his hands full, mentally ticked off another way in which this was fucking awesome. Kevin’s hands were sliding across Jeremy’s body, lighting up more sensitive points than Jean could have managed alone. Jeremy hadn’t made any coherent words in several minutes; his head had dropped back on to Jean’s shoulder, moans and sighs of pleasure dropping sweetly from his lips like candy.

Kevin leaned over them to kiss Jeremy; his mouth, his neck, his chest. With one hand braced on the bed, he found Jeremy’s nipples with his mouth and started teasing them. Jean, delighted to find that Kevin still had sense of playfulness, began to move with more force. One arm gripped Jeremy’s waist now, to stop him from arching right off. Kevin held the other, pinning him in place between them. His fingers brushed Jean’s hip often; every time he did it, Jean’s movement would stutter.

On another night, Jean would have tried for a new position. He was so excited he wanted to try them all, but the occasion was too great even for his stamina. Already he could feel the pressure building in his abdomen. He tried to slow down - he usually could - but the added sensation of Kevin’s hand touching his bare body, the place where his underwear usually covered, was close to unbearable.

Between them, Jeremy was losing it. His own hips had long since stopped moving with them; he was trapped, lost in the rhythms they had created on either side of his body. Kevin pushed Jeremy’s legs a little higher, a little wider, and bent his head again to his navel. He took Jeremy right down his throat; Jeremy gave a cry, and clenched so hard around Jean’s cock that his vision went white. He came in Kevin’s mouth, sweet cries wrung from between them, and Jean’s hands gripped him so hard he’d surely give Jeremy the bruises he so enjoyed.

Kevin swallowed what was given with no fuss. Jeremy was rapidly going boneless between them, but Kevin got back up on his knees with a ruthless glint in his eyes that made Jean’s dick throb.

He leaned in and kissed Jeremy, a filthy kiss, letting him taste himself. Jean had eased off slightly, to better enjoy the feeling of Jeremy’s orgasm, but now he thrust up hard into him again. Then, in a moment that melted his brain slightly, Kevin reached down and slipped his fingers around the base of Jean’s cock.

It was all over for Jean. He bit down on a cry and thrust up hard, hips stuttering, spilling helplessly inside him. Not the most spectacular end for him, but he was so overstimulated he could barely remember his own name. Jeremy writhed on his cock, grinding his hips down and working him until Jean couldn’t bear it. Jeremy’s name fell from his lips, pleading, cursing him.

Kevin’s fingers wound into Jean’s hair, a point of contact so shocking it snapped him back again. Kevin was pressed up close against Jeremy, still with one hand on his hip, holding him in place. Jeremy reached down and took him in hand, working him slowly but with a firm grip. The heat between the three of them was insane; there was not an inch of skin not covered in sweat. Jean wrapped an arm around Jeremy’s body and held him close as Kevin shuddered and moaned over his body. He buried his face in Jeremy’s neck as he came, but his hand stayed locked in Jean’s hair.

He rolled off them both after he’d breathed through the worst of it. Jean’s legs were beginning to ache, but Jeremy had taken the worst of it. They’d pulled his legs wide and then pushed his knees up, gripped his thighs and his waist and hips with bruising force. His neck was red and bitten, and his sensitive chest bore red marks from their fingers. Jean had fucked him hard, and come was leaking out around his softening cock. And still Jeremy was making tiny, happy noises, some sounding like Jean’s name, some like Kevin’s.

Jean used his thighs to lift Jeremy’s body again before easing himself out. That unpleasantness was always the worst, so he was sure to wrap his arms and legs around him and cover him with soft, insistent kisses. It hadn’t been as rough as on other occasions, but the part of Jean’s brain that was still business as usual was aware that this had been a new, rather overwhelming experience. He’d also likely already been fucked in the last 24 hours, and would be sore.

Jeremy wriggled on to his side and then draped Jean’s arms over himself like a blanket. He pulled Jean’s hands close and kissed them both, and then his wrists. Jean pressed his lips to the back of Jeremy’s neck, so blissfully content he thought he should surely die of it.

Kevin lay on Jeremy’s other side, slightly apart. He was facing Jeremy, and looked as satisfied as they did, but some of the old hesitance was back.

Jean knew Jeremy was too fucked out to be functioning at all right now. He was mumbling quietly, snuggling back against Jean’s chest, barely conscious. So Jean reached out to Kevin, letting the hand not being kissed by Jeremy rest lightly on his bare hip.

Kevin jumped at the contact again, but thankfully he didn’t move away. He focused on Jeremy instead, finally reaching out to touch his face. It was just the barest brush of fingers, but his face was full of longing. Jeremy smiled, and took his hand too, kissing his fingertips one by one. Kevin watched him with an expression so tender that Jean’s fragile new heart began to ache in a way that was strangely sad.

They dozed for a while. Jean truly was tired from the excitement of the day before and now this, and Jeremy had done the most work between the three of them. Kevin began to fidget before long, finally getting up and muttering something about a shower. Jean watched him go, and hoped he would come back. But if he did, Jean was too asleep to notice. He drifted off, curled around Jeremy’s body, the heat of the late summer breeze coming through the open window to tickle their hair and dry the sweat on their skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pops champagne*


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every time I tried to write this chapter over Christmas I just started screaming, and then I moved into a new apartment and work got super busy but HERE IT IS FOLKS, an extra long chapter in this cold January, ripped from my brain. Next update will be Sunday 24th (we hope and pray) <3

‘So.’ Stephanie looked at him critically over a tall coffee drink. ‘How is the living arrangement that I thoroughly disapprove of coming along?’

Jean sipped his own black coffee and tried to look chill. ‘Good, thank you.’

Finch and Marble had a policy of vetting housemates. Jeremy was a known commodity and hadn’t required vetting, but “Gary” would need the full check. Stephanie had had many things to say when she’d found out about Kevin.

‘No rivalries developing yet?’ she asked now, primly. ‘Relations not developing into a state of constant competition?’

Jean thought about that. He and Kevin had only ever been in competition at the Nest. Ever since Kevin had moved in with them, Jean had become quite used to ceding territory and sharing things. He actually found he quite enjoyed it.

After their first time all together, Kevin had been a little flustered and bashful around Jean. It hadn’t been hard to work out why. Kevin and Jean had only been vulnerable with each other under desperate, terrible circumstances. Having Jean see him completely weak and helpless with Jeremy was clearly uncomfortable for him.

It did sting, more than Jean would admit. But other than that, it was all roses. Jeremy was deliriously happy; he touched and kissed them whenever he felt like it, and spent time with both of them. It would have been easier if Kevin wasn’t as uncomfortable around Jean as he clearly was, but he would take what he could get.

It meant that sometimes Jeremy was in Kevin’s room, instead of Jean’s. Kevin’s room was a place where Jean was not welcome. It wasn’t ideal, but Jean still preferred it to how it was before. The atmosphere in their apartment improved dramatically when Kevin was happy. It was a good look for him.

Despite Jeremy’s worries, Jean wasn’t jealous. He was still enjoying life, and especially life with Jeremy. On that front, nothing had changed.

‘No issues,’ Jean said, shrugging. ‘There’s no rivalry between us. We’re just happy to be reconnecting.’

Stephanie pursed her lips. ‘So you’re getting along, then? All three of you?’

That was one way to say it.

Regardless of how he felt about being intimate with Jean, Kevin did seem to be enjoying Jean’s company. They usually ate dinner together, discussed their days, and waited for Jeremy to come home. Kevin occasionally accompanied Jean to the pool, where Kevin insisted they race each other. Jean preferred to take his time, but he obliged him anyways.

At home, Jeremy brought it all to life. He was studying hard now on a regular basis, and still finding time to see his friends and make new ones, but at home with them he sprawled out on the couch, happy to put his head or legs in their laps, and made them do things like watch movies and play games and occasionally even laugh. It didn’t come naturally to Kevin, but Jean was getting more comfortable with sarcasm by the day.

While Jean did get Jeremy all to himself on a fairly regular basis, and enjoyed thinking about them together when he did not, there were some rare but wonderful occasions when he would catch them both unawares.

Jean knew he wasn’t supposed to, but sometimes he loved those times the most.

‘We’re getting along fine,’ Jean told Stephanie. ‘It’s a good dynamic.’

Stephanie arched an eyebrow like she didn’t believe that for a second. She was probably right to be suspicious. But one thing she’d have to learn was that Jean would always protect Kevin. Even if he had forgotten that for a while.

The three of them had slipped into a routine that had not been discussed or clarified in any way, but somehow seemed to be working beautifully. They went about their lives - Jean and Kevin to training, games, and the occasional team social activity that Jean went to cautiously and Kevin had to be beat into attending, for his own good - and Jeremy to school, the library, and his own reef of social activities. He’d also taken on a job tutoring students in math. Jean was swimming every few nights, and Kevin spent a lot of his time watching exy games and taking feverish notes. They were, to put it lightly, a busy household.

But it was the little things that stirred Jean’s blood and made him eager to get up each morning.

Jeremy rotated between their beds and his own. Typically he only slept with Kevin after they’d had sex - Jean didn’t know why, and didn’t ask. It was between them. But Jeremy frequently crawled into Jean’s bed after a late night of studying. Jean was learning to sleep alone, but there was nothing finer than the feeling of Jeremy pulling the sheets back and snuggling his body down against Jean’s, throwing a leg over him and pressing up close with his cold feet. He slept with the door open every night now, for anyone who might want to come in.

Kevin was another story. He and Jean were getting along fine by their standards, but it must have seemed a little cold to Jeremy. They were naturally careful around each other. Kevin usually chose to put Jeremy between them - both at the dinner table and in bed - and Jean let him because it was how he was most comfortable. And because throughout the day, there was time to brush against him in the kitchen and nudge his leg under the table and pass him something, anything, a glass of water even, and feel his fingertips. Every touch was a bell the sounded _safe, safe, he’s here, we’re safe_.

Of course, there was no way to fuck the same guy at the same time without touching in some way. Their hands met on his skin, their legs tangled together, sometimes Kevin’s hand found a way to Jean’s neck or face or hair. He knew Kevin wasn’t attracted to him, and things happened in the heat of the moment, so he tried not to let it affect him too much.

Besides, Jeremy was more than enough to cope with by himself. Although he was working and studying hard, there was a glow to his skin and a sparkle in his eyes that made Jean feel deeply warm and satisfied every time he looked at him. He would come home with a kiss for both of them; Kevin was a little more reticent when it came to displays of affection outside of the bedroom, but Jean lived for that kiss.

Jeremy was naturally tactile and affectionate. He ran his hand across Jean’s back, his shoulders, the length of his arm, whenever he happened to be near. To Jean’s delight, he’d started doing the same to Kevin in smaller doses. A soft brush of his fingers against Kevin’s wrist or a gentle shoulder nudge in the kitchen. Kevin permitted it, because it was Jeremy. Jean remembered a time when all that kept Kevin from hyperventilating was Jean’s hands on his face and forehead against his own. The things that had happened to him between then and now made him flinch more than relax at skin to skin contact, but Jean could see how he was improving every day.

Jeremy received a package from home one day. It was mostly just a few things he’d left behind, but his mother had also included some snacks and small gifts. Among them were two hand-knitted scarves - one in red, white, and black, and the other in blue, white and gold.

‘This is nice,’ Jean said, appreciatively, winding the blue one around his neck and admiring the fine quality. ‘She makes these?’

Jeremy nodded, grinning. ‘They’re good, huh? She knits baby clothes mostly for all the new moms in her neighbourhood.’

Kevin was running his hands over his own, as though he’d never received a gift before. ‘Does she know that you’re …’

‘Fucking both us?’ Jean finished.

Jeremy made a face, but he was smiling. ‘No. But she knows how important you both are to me.’

They were milling around the living room on a Thursday night. Jeremy had nothing on his calendar for the evening and Jean was basking in the feeling of having the apartment nice and full.

‘She sounds nice,’ he said, idly flipping the end of the scarf over his shoulder and sitting down in his favourite chair. ‘A good mother.’ He paused, then snorted. ‘Not that I’d know.’

Jeremy paused very briefly in packing his things back into the box. ‘What do you mean?’

Jean could feel Kevin’s eyes on him. ‘Oh, I just don’t remember mine,’ he said. ‘I don’t think they were around much.’

Jeremy closed up the top of the box and then leaned his elbows on it. ‘Do you miss them?’

Jean shook his head. ‘No, I really can’t remember them.’

‘You were ten,’ Kevin blurted out. ‘How can you not remember?’

Jean bristled. ‘I was eleven. And I don’t remember because they were never around. I remember my nannies, though.’

‘Did you have any brothers or sisters?’ Jeremy asked.

‘No. I don’t think my parents were close,’ Jean replied. ‘The stress of working for an international criminal organisation, maybe?’

He was trying to lighten the mood, and Jeremy gave him the smile he wanted.

‘Are you going to try and contact them?’ Kevin asked, with his usual frown.

Jean shook his head. ‘No. They gave me up. I don’t think they ever wanted children, or ever intended to be parents. I was a future business transaction.’ He shrugged. ‘There are worse things to be.’

He could see from Jeremy’s face that he found this statement very sad. But Kevin was still grumbling.

‘At least they’re still alive,’ he said. ‘You should at least try.’

Jean tried to keep it fairly peaceful where Kevin was concerned, but he had his limits.

‘It’s a little more complicated than that, Kevin,’ he said, acidly.

‘There’s literally nothing stopping you, though.’

Jean inhaled deeply through his nose. ‘It’s really great that your dad wants you, Kevin,’ he said. Sensing the sharp dip in the mood, he added, ‘Forget it. I shouldn’t have brought it up.’

Jeremy had been watching their exchange quietly. Now he dragged his eyes away from Jean to look at Kevin. ‘Do you remember your mom, Kevin?’

Kevin whirled around. ‘What? No.’

‘Kevin was three when she died,’ Jean reminded him.

‘You don’t have anything of hers?’

Kevin shook his head. ‘Nothing.’

‘Just her hair and her eyes,’ said Jean.

Kevin shot a wounded look at him, and Jean rolled his eyes.

‘Really?’ Jeremy sounded interested.

‘Look her up,’ Jean said, nodding at Jeremy’s phone. He wasn’t sure why he was doing this.

With a careful glance at Kevin, Jeremy took up his phone. He leaned an elbow on Jean’s knee as he did so, including him in the search. ‘Is that her?’ he asked, showing Jean the first result.

Jean looked. It was the photo he’d seen the most, from her lacrosse school days. ‘Yeah, that’s her,’ he said.

Jeremy was quiet for a moment. ‘Oh, Kevin,’ he murmured. ‘You look just like her.’

Kevin shifted uncomfortably. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah.’ Jeremy looked up at him. ‘Hasn’t anyone ever told you that?’

Jean threw Kevin a look behind Jeremy’s head, and Kevin threw a worse one back. Then Jean grinned at him and Kevin blinked, surprised.

‘What?’

Jean shook his head and looked away, still smiling. ‘Nothing.’

Despite the pleasures that could be found at home, Jean still enjoyed his little wanderings in the city. Sometimes, training was so absorbing that there wasn’t a single part of his brain left to think about anything else. So he roamed the streets, sticking his head into stores that took his fancy. He didn’t buy much - truthfully, he had everything he wanted already - but it was nice to see what was there, and the kinds of people who were buying them.

He did buy books, however. Jean found that he knew so little of the world, and was eager to learn more. Kevin had been the history student; Jean had never seen the point of focusing on anything other than exy, when his own place had to be defended before all else. Now, he consumed little else.

One evening, he lost track of time in a little bookshop cafe. He had a few favourites by now; this was one where he’d never been even remotely recognised, and he favoured it. When the waitress politely informed him of the time, he left a generous tip and bustled out the door, amazed at how reading ate up the hours in such a pleasurable way.

He entered the apartment quietly, aware that Jeremy might be studying. The key had barely returned to his pocket when he realised this was not the case.

Jeremy and Kevin were in the middle of the room, almost falling over the coffee table in their urge to kiss each other. Jeremy’s hands were deep in Kevin’s hair, and Kevin was clutching his waist desperately.

Jean smirked, and leaned back against the door quietly. He hoped they would’t notice, so that he could observe a little longer. Jeremy was slipping his hands under Kevin’s t-shirt, running hot little trails over his skin. As Jean watched, his fingers trailed down to Kevin’s waistline. Jean’s hips tilted forward subconsciously, remembering how that touch felt.

They did have sex together, all three of them, sometimes. Usually it was Jeremy who initiated. Jean would have liked to, but didn’t want to put Kevin under pressure. He tried to read Kevin’s moods and be mindful of how this could be difficult - but damn, sometimes he couldn’t help pulling Jeremy close and kissing the life out of him. He could always tell when Jeremy was up for something, Kevin less so. If he wasn’t, he’d simply go into his room. If he was, well …

On one occasion, Jean spent twenty minutes observing Kevin staring at Jeremy without doing a thing about it. It was more than a little infuriating. So, he’d pulled Jeremy down on to his lap and kissed his neck, spreading his thighs with his hands. Together, they put on a little show; Jean lifted Jeremy’s shirt and popped the top button of his jeans, and Jeremy arched his back and ran his hands down Jean’s thighs. Once they got started, Jeremy tended to lose himself, but that was ok. Everything he did was beautiful and highly alluring because it was natural, uncontrolled.

It didn’t take Kevin long to give in. One of the things Jean loved about him was his determination once a decision had been made. He was on his feet and standing between Jeremy’s - and Jean’s - legs in the space of two heartbeats. He leaned down to kiss Jeremy hard on the mouth, while his hands brushed Jean’s against Jeremy’s zipper.

If there was one person who didn’t have any concerns or reservations about their relationship, it was Jeremy. Jean had never seen him so blissfully happy and content. He told Jean he loved him every day; sometimes Jean was too stunned to say it back.

In bed, together, Jean became a different person. No concerns or fears existed when his limbs were next to theirs. He didn’t worry that he wasn’t enough for Jeremy, because it was abundantly clear that he was. He didn’t wonder what nightmares would come for him that night, or when the next panic attack would render him immobile. Those things would come or they wouldn’t. Jeremy was his present, and hopefully his future. It was impossible not to be in the moment with him.

They negotiated Jeremy between them with few words. Occasionally Jeremy would guide them - I want this here, you, there - but he preferred it when Jean told him what to do. When it was the three of them, Jean was almost always in charge.

Sometimes, he would pull Jeremy’s legs back and let Kevin fuck him. He liked to watch Kevin’s face, and feel Jeremy’s breath on his thighs. Other times, he would fuck Jeremy from behind, with Kevin in front. They did it in bed, on the ground, against the wall, across the back of the couch. They had limited free time in their lives, but what they had they spent together.

It was only in these small, vulnerable moments that Kevin would touch him on purpose. When he was buried in Jeremy, body shaking, his hand would reach out and grip Jean’s shoulder. When Jeremy had him stretched out beneath him, helpless, it was Jean’s wrist Kevin grabbed for.

At night, when everyone was nodding off on the couch, Jean had Jeremy tucked under one arm as standard. Kevin usually took the other side of him, but sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes, as Jeremy drowsed, Kevin would sit down on Jean’s other side. They would be quiet, shoulder to shoulder, breathing evenly. Sometimes, Kevin’s fingers would brush the back of Jean’s wrist. Nothing more. Jean wanted desperately, painfully, to put him under his arm like he did Jeremy, but Kevin would never allow it. So he accepted these little touches, took them and hoarded them greedily as his and his alone. They, too, were his guard against the darkest nighttime thoughts.

The days seemed to rush by. Practice was tiring but oddly satisfying. The backliners were used to Jean’s ways now, and he them, and they knocked about together in a comfortable group. Jean was starting every game now in place of the injured Guyon, with Bear ready to deputise should it get the better of him. Liljana and Nick played the bulk of the game, but Jean was already feeling like he could be taking on more. He even kind of wanted to.

‘You’re growing,’ Jeremy teased, when Jean actually participated in his and Kevin’s end-of-day exy discussion.

‘Shut up,’ Jean replied, but it was a token protest. Kevin didn’t look like it was any kind of achievement to be enjoying exy for the first time, but he just continued folding his shirts on the back of the couch.

They had all thrown their laundry in the one machine because the ones in the building were enormous. Jeremy was on the other couch sorting their stuff into piles, occasionally holding up a t-shirt for someone to claim.

‘You haven’t once asked whose underpants are whose,’ Jean commented, folding a pair of socks at the table.

‘Maybe I’m just guessing,’ Jeremy said.

‘No you’re not,’ Jean and Kevin said, simultaneously. Jean flicked a smile at Kevin, who looked back down at his clothes.

‘What would you say if I said I can actually tell?’ Jeremy asked.

Jean snorted. ‘I’d say you’re full of it.’

‘How?’ Kevin asked, too loud.

Jean grinned into his t-shirts.

Jeremy was clearly trying not to smile too. ‘Jean’s are bigger,’ he said, biting his lip. ‘And most of them are this brand.’ He pointed at the black band with the indistinct logo stamped on it.

Jean grinned shamelessly at Kevin, who just glared. ‘You eat too much,’ he said.

‘I just do more squats than you, Kevin. No hard feelings.’

Jeremy tossed a pair of underpants at Jean’s head. Jean winked at him around them.

‘Idiot,’ Kevin muttered.

‘What about you, Kevin?’ Jean asked, pulling the underwear off his face. ‘Could you tell mine and Jeremy’s apart? Or even yours and Jeremy’s?’

Kevin folded another shirt deliberately, taking several seconds to do it. ‘I don’t pay attention to underwear,’ he said, finally.

‘Just what’s under it,’ Jean said, nodding sagely.

‘What - no.’

Jeremy snorted. ‘Don’t tease him, Jean.’

‘The _least_ I can do is tease him.’

Kevin began to fold his clothes with more vigour, knocking several socks to the floor. Jeremy now turned to his own pile, a small smile still on his face, and Jean was left to look back and forth between the two of them and wonder if his heart was swelling to twice its former size or if he was merely having a coronary.

He meandered over to Kevin’s portion of the couch, feeling an odd urge to flick his ear. Not wanting to die, he contented himself with assisting him.

He reached out for a t-shirt, but had his hand smacked away. ‘Hey,’ he muttered, reaching for it again. This time, Kevin took it away from him with an angry mutter.

‘What?’ Jean grumbled. ‘Just trying to help.’

‘Don’t,’ snapped Kevin.

Jeremy looked up at them, frowning. Kevin, inexplicably, was blushing.

Jean wanted to argue but Jeremy was watching, so he backed off, feeling stung. Kevin returned to folding, and Jean’s eyes were drawn once again to his hands. Both pale, and strong, one with a ropy white scar across the back. Careful hands, that did nothing by accident. When he finally looked away, he found Jeremy’s eyes on him.

That was usually how it went when the three of them hung out longer than a few hours. In pairs, they each had their own way of getting along. Jean got along best with Jeremy; they were totally in love, for one thing, and easily delighted by each other’s company. Jean also found that in this new life of freedom he had a much more fond remembrance of his time at USC, and Jeremy just loved to talk about it.

But Jeremy also got more talk out of Kevin than anyone else. They talked about exy mostly, of course - obsessively - but Kevin also liked hearing about how Jeremy was doing at school. He’d always enjoyed schoolwork. The two of them would sit leaning over at the table at each other, an iPad between them. It took them two hours to watch a single game, because of how often they stopped it to discuss this or that move.

The only time Jean and Kevin really got along was in very quiet moments, like when Jeremy was out, or had fallen asleep on the couch or in bed next to them. Then, Jean and Kevin would talk quietly together, usually in French. It was never a tangible sort of conversation; Jean often didn’t even know what they were talking about. But it brought him comfort, and he wished it wasn’t so hard to engineer.

Jean was beginning to suspect that Kevin couldn’t relax around him when Jeremy was also there. It may have been because Kevin felt awkward, or didn’t want to betray how much he liked Jeremy, or upset Jean in some way.

The sex was still good. Jean tried to focus on that. It was good as hell between the three of them in bed. Just because the talking wasn’t working so much yet didn’t mean the whole endeavour was worthless.

And Jeremy was happy. He was clearly delighted to have them both in his life, and that was worth everything to Jean. Including a little minor heartbreak every time Kevin jerked away from him or snapped at him out of nowhere. Or, when Jean tried to be gentle or kind to him. Especially then.

The next weekend saw Kevin and the Knights travel down to South Carolina. Returning to his old stomping ground had Kevin all worked up, but not in the sexy way. He stomped around in a weird funk all week, and though Jeremy made a noise about wishing him well and missing him while he was gone, Jean kept his mouth shut because he was doing his fucking head in.

Jean had the early game on Saturday, so he and Jeremy made reservations for dinner that night. It was a small, poky place that they shared with mostly older type couples, and they thought they could get away with holding hands under the table so they did. As they ate, Jean tried to focus on Jeremy. Usually this was the easiest thing in the world. But he had an uncomfortable feeling in the back of his mind which was getting harder to ignore.

‘You’re quiet tonight,’ Jeremy commented, as they finished the wine.

Jean shrugged. ‘Isn’t that my thing?’

‘No, not recently,’ Jeremy replied. ‘You’ve been almost chatty, actually.’ He looked up at Jean with a little smile. ‘I mean, I liked you before that. But you’ve seemed happier since we moved here.’

Jean gestured. ‘Life continues to improve for me,’ he said. He put his hand back on Jeremy’s knee and smiled.

Jeremy smiled back, and touched his hand. ‘I’m happy too,’ he said. Then he paused, looking contemplative. Jean watched him think for a minute, then tapped his knee.

‘We had a conversation like this already,’ he said. ‘Before Kevin moved in. Remember?’

Jeremy nodded. ‘Yeah. What are you thinking right now?’

Jean didn’t know. But something in him wanted to confess to Jeremy, spill his guts so completely that the bad feeling would be emptied out of him. And Jeremy would surely be able to find the positive, or at least tell him how he _should_ be feeling.

‘Lets get the bill,’ he said.

They took the long way home. More walking than was strictly necessary. But Jeremy didn’t say anything about it. He just held Jean’s hand and waited.

‘Where do you see this all going?’ Jean asked, finally.

As usual, Jeremy was on the same page as him. ‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘It really hasn’t been that long. I’ve got a five year plan for like, school and job stuff. Not for Jean and Kevin stuff.’

Jean’s mouth twitched. ‘I didn’t think you left any element of your life unplanned.’

Jeremy pulled on Jean’s arm until it was looped with his own, and replied, ‘That part of my life just doesn’t worry me. But I can tell it’s worrying you, lately.’

Jean tried to organise his thoughts. They were meandering slowly, and Jeremy’s presence and warmth gave him comfort.

‘You’re happy with our situation,’ he said, slowly. ‘The three of us.’

Jeremy nodded. ‘I am. But … you’re not?’

To his credit, there was no censure or apprehension in his voice. But Jean knew that this would be bad news for him.

‘I’m afraid that this won’t work,’ Jean said. ‘That things will crumble … if it starts to fall apart between Kevin and I.’

‘And is it?’

Jean shrugged, feeling a little helpless now that he had to talk about it. ‘I mean, you tell me,’ he said. ‘I feel like all we do is argue. I expected that. I know Kevin, we’ve always fought. But I also know how he - how I thought he felt about me. But now he just - flinches away from me. He acts like everything I do offends him.’ Jean ground his teeth. ‘Its never been like _that_.’

Jeremy didn’t answer right away, fuelling Jean’s paranoia. ‘Do you love him?’ he asked, with no idea how he wanted Jeremy to respond.

It took him a moment. ‘Yes, I do.’

His voice was gentle. He was trying to ease the blow. It would be hard for him to choose between the two of them. Kevin or Jean. Maybe impossible.

It was a simple admission. He and Kevin had probably talked about this already.

Whatever Jeremy saw on Jean’s face didn’t make him happy. They continued on in silence.

Back at the apartment, Jean poured more wine. Jeremy watched him carefully, and Jean hoped he wouldn’t have to say something like “it was already open” to justify himself. He really just needed something to do with his hands.

‘Jean, I felt comfortable telling you how I feel about Kevin,’ Jeremy said quietly, sitting at the counter.

‘I know,’ Jean said, quietly. He put his fingertips on the stem of the glass, but didn’t drink.

‘Do you know why?’

‘I …’ Jean gestured. ‘You know.’

’No, tell me,’ Jeremy said, leaning forward. ‘Say it.’

Jean drummed his fingers on the table. ‘You trust me,’ he said.

‘Trust you. Love you. Would go crazy without you.’ Jeremy smiled. ‘I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon.’

‘Him neither?’

‘Nope. Him neither. Not unless he wants to go, of course.’

‘What, because you’ll still have one of us?’ Jean said, flippantly.

He regretted the words immediately. Jeremy looked at him with that quiet, calm expression that didn’t look disappointed but Jean knew was just how Jeremy weathered his disappointment without actually showing it.

‘That’s not how I feel,’ Jeremy said. ‘About either of you.’

‘I didn’t mean it like that - ’

‘No, it’s a fair question,’ Jeremy said. ‘This triangle is uneven for you.’ He bit his lip. ‘I’m sorry, I should have thought about this.’

‘This was my idea.’

‘Yeah, but we’re in it together,’ Jeremy said. ‘This is our relationship. If some part of it is not working for you then that’s important to me.’

Jean sighed, and leaned on the table. ‘I don’t want to be the difficult one,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to be the reason this doesn’t work.’

Jeremy’s brow creased. ‘You’re not - why would you say that?’

‘You love Kevin - you guys are in love. You love him.’

‘Yes, I do,’ replied Jeremy. He reached out and put his hand on Jean’s. ‘But so do you.’

Jean averted his eyes as he nodded. Denying it would be worse.

‘That’s why I told you,’ Jeremy said, quietly. ‘You love him too. I can see it in how you look at him. Your voice changes when you talk to him. When we’re in bed, you like when he touches you.’ He paused, chafing Jean’s hand gently. ‘I spend a lot of time watching you two, you know.’

Jean inhaled deeply, trying to. He picked up Jeremy’s hand and kissed it, then pressed it to his face.

‘How do we keep going on like this?’ Jean asked. ‘It’s uneven. I thought I could … god, I’m so sorry, but it’s wearing me thin.’

‘What is?’

‘Every time he doesn’t look at me.’

Jeremy stroked his face. ‘You think he’s rejecting you.’

‘Of course he is,’ muttered Jean, pulling away. ‘He doesn’t want me … like that.’

Jeremy took his hand back. ‘I don’t see it like that.’

‘I love your optimism, usually,’ Jean forced out. ‘But - ’

‘No, it’s not optimism,’ Jeremy said, quickly. ‘I’m not blowing smoke, I swear. That’s just not how I see him looking at you, when you’re not looking.’

Jean didn’t understand that. He blinked at Jeremy a few times, then reached for the wine.

Jeremy’s hand stopped him. ‘Jean.’

Their eyes met across the table.

‘Am I not enough for you?’ Jeremy asked, his voice a whisper.

Jean was lost under that gaze.

Jeremy shook his head. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’

Jean pulled him close. ‘I would be lost without you,’ he murmured. ‘You are more than enough.’

It was humbling to remember that even Jeremy was not immune to insecurities.

‘We should be talking more,’ Jeremy said. ‘All three of us. You’re right, there’s way to this that we never thought of.’

Jean snorted quietly. ‘Yeah, try getting Kevin to talk about any of it.’

‘I’m serious,’ Jeremy said. ‘I want this to work. I want it to work for you too.’

He leaned in to Jean, putting his hands on his chest. ‘I think you need to talk to Kevin, properly. I’d do it for you, I want to help you with this so much … but this part is between the two of you.’

That night, after Jeremy had fallen asleep on his chest, Jean tried to give some real thought to what Jeremy had said. His first instinct was to reject it; he couldn’t believe what he hadn’t seen. And all he could rely on, historically, was what he _could_ see. And he had always, always been able to read Kevin.

It was hard to imagine a Kevin he didn’t know. But, at the end of the day, Jean believed in Jeremy more than he did himself.

All the next week, Jean tried to work on mentally preparing himself for having some sort of conversation with Kevin. It should have been the perfect opportunity that weekend. Jeremy had his first big exam coming up, and he and his group of friends were holing up at one of their apartments for a 24 hour cram session. Kevin clearly hated the thought of it; he ghosted in and out of the living room while Jeremy showered, each appearance bringing a greater scowl, When Jeremy was finally out of the shower, Kevin swooped in and kissed him movie-style. Jeremy almost dropped his towel.

‘What did I do to deserve that?’ he asked, bemused, when Kevin finally let him up for air. Jean irritably flipped the page too aggressively and dropped the book, losing his place.

Typically, both Jean and Kevin had early home games that Saturday. Jean was more tempted than ever to take Bear and the other backliners up on their offer to hang out afterwards, but he knew Jeremy would be disappointed if he didn’t at least use this weekend as a basic starting point for him and Kevin to sort out whatever was broken - breaking - between them.

Jean liked to unwind after a game with a book or a nap. Kevin, unfortunately, was almost always horny. He usually had sex with Jeremy after a game. Now that mood was infecting the apartment and getting under Jean’s skin.

‘Can you please stop pacing,’ Jean snapped, after Kevin’s hundredth lap of the apartment. ‘Can’t you go for a run or something?’

‘No,’ Kevin snapped. He paused. ‘They won’t let me.’

Jean snorted, amused. ‘What are you talking about?’

Kevin exhaled his frustrations. ‘The watch,’ he said, raising his wrist. ‘They make me wear the stupid watch and they track my steps and distance. To make sure I’m not overdoing it.’

Jean blinked. ‘That’s kind of …’

‘Yeah, I know,’ Kevin said, heavily.

‘That’s some Raven shit.’

‘Apparently I’m “too intense” and I’ll injure myself.’

Jean shrugged. ’You can see why they’d think that.’

‘There’s _no_ precedent.’

Jean smiled, turning the page. ‘They did the same thing to me at USC,’ he said. ‘Not with a watch, but Jeremy was on my ass the whole time … The 16 hour days and the periodic starvation, etc … it was still hurting me like always, but I just didn’t know another way to live.’

In the silence that followed, Jean looked up to see where Kevin had gone. But he was still there, looking at him. Jean hated that he couldn’t read him anymore.

When Kevin turned away - lap one hundred and one - Jean kept looking.

They fixed dinner together - or at least, they attempted to. Kevin was incredibly twitchy and weird. Jean had tried several times to engage him in the intended conversation, but got a weird look or an angry sigh for his troubles every time. Jean had now turned instead to slamming pots and pans around to take out his frustration. It didn’t help that Kevin was clearly still itching for sex. Right now, Jean couldn’t have been less in the mood.

‘Pass the salt,’ Kevin said, from the other side of the kitchen.

Jean flung it at his head. Kevin caught it with ease.

‘Your aim sucks.’

‘Oh, go jerk off or something,’ Jean snapped, turning back to the simmering sauce.

There was a muted clatter; Kevin had dropped the salt. Before Jean could look up, Kevin had a hand on his neck and was slamming him back against the fridge. Jean’s first instinct told him that Kevin had finally decided to kill him. Then Kevin’s mouth was on his neck and his hand was inside his underwear, and Jean’s brain went static.

The haze of unthinking bliss only lasted a moment. Jean wasn’t hard, and as Kevin tried to get him there Jean remembered why he wasn’t, and pushed Kevin away, feeling scalded.

His cheeks were flushed and his pupils blown, all very familiar signs by now. Jean glared.

‘I said, go jerk off,’ he said. ‘Don’t use me.’

‘Come on,’ snapped Kevin. ‘What the fuck is the big deal?’

‘If you want sex, you can get it elsewhere,’ Jean said, firmly, and at the same time wondering why he felt nauseous.

Kevin looked at him in disbelief. ‘Why the fuck will you have sex with him and not me?’

‘You’re really asking that?’ demanded Jean. ‘How the fuck are you this stupid?’

Kevin’s color rose. ‘Don’t talk to me like that,’ he said, voice trembling.

They’d tripped over each others lines already. This was not the conversation Jeremy had wanted for them, but it was the one that was happening.

‘You can sleep with Jeremy, or both of us at the same time,’ Jean said. ‘But you don’t get it all your own way. You don’t get to use me like that, it’s not like it was before.’

Kevin made an angry noise. ‘Jean, you can’t say that to me.’

‘I can say whatever I like now, Kevin.’

‘But you know it wasn’t like that - ’

‘Wasn’t it?’ Jean turned on him, getting right in his face. Kevin’s eyes widened; he backed up a step, but Jean followed. ‘We took what we wanted from each other. We did what we had to. And maybe it wasn’t one of the many things that fucked you up, but it …’

He trailed off, caught in Kevin’s eyes, the soft curve of his lips. God, he was always so intense. Before, Jean had always known where he stood with him. He’d always found his feet with him.

With a sigh, Jean drew back. ‘This isn’t going to work,’ he said.

Kevin swallowed, with visible effort. ‘What?’

Jean gestured. ‘The us part of this.’

‘Jean, what - ’

‘I know that you love him,’ Jean said. Kevin looked stricken. ‘I know that he loves you. And it’s fine, I’m … I’m happy for you both. But we’re gonna have to find another way to do it, because I can’t be like this with you.’

Kevin’s face darkened. ‘This was _your_ idea. You pushed this on him. How can you do this now? It’s only been a few weeks!’

‘Yeah, well,’ Jean said, heavily. ‘I can’t hide it from him, either.’

‘You could try a little fucking harder.’ Kevin was actually trembling. ‘How can you be doing this?’

‘Didn’t anyone ever teach you to say _no_ at your fucking beloved Palmetto?’ Jean said, incredulously. ‘I’m _done_ with doing things that hurt me, Kevin. You can keep being a fucking masochist if it suits you.’

Jean wondered if Kevin was going to hit him. His hands were balled into fists, and he looked angrier than Jean had ever seen him. _Good_ , he thought. _He’s the one with the problem. He’s the one who flinches every time I touch him._

They retreated to their rooms, dinner abandoned on the stove. Jean knew Kevin would be starving, same as him, but he was too stubborn to finish up alone. Jean had slammed his door for effect, so now they were both suffering, hungry and alone. He wondered if Kevin was tattling to Jeremy.

Jean hoped he’d be able to drift off to sleep, but instead he fell into a vicious hate-cycle of replaying their conversation. He and Kevin had historically done most of their fighting with their fists. That thought made him think of how Kevin’s hand had wrapped around him, how his mouth had pressed to his neck. It hadn’t been aggressive, like it should have been. It had been surprisingly soft. That’s why it had taken Jean a minute to push him away.

Jean regretting his pride now. They could have had sex, properly, or at least gotten more intimate than they’d ever managed before. Maybe that might have changed Kevin’s opinion of him, made him more comfortable with him in bed. Shit, maybe that had been his version of an olive branch, him saying that he was willing to try with Jean, for Jeremy’s sake.

Jean rolled over, feeling nauseous again.

The hours drifted by. Jean’s stomach had gone past hungry and rolled into starvation mode, which was an uncomfortable return to something familiar, at least. The fight with Kevin was still making him feel sick, which was incredibly annoying. Usually only an argument with Jeremy could do that.

When Kevin’s door opened, Jean sat up. He waited to hear what would happen; if Kevin went into the kitchen to eat, he’d make up for the sake of food.

But Kevin was just going to the bathroom. Something was tugging on Jean, and he knew if he let Kevin go back to his room then he wouldn’t sleep at all.

He met Kevin in the living room. Kevin looked startled, then seemed to brace himself for another round.

Jean held up a hand. ‘It’s ok,’ he said, quietly. ‘I just wondered … if you wanted to eat.’

Kevin nodded, mutely, and together they finished up the half-cooked dinner. It was a little bit ruined, but both of them had eaten much worse in the past, so there were no complaints. Jean tried to focus on his food, hoping it would give him the strength to make up, or at least to speak up. But that nausea was still turning his stomach, and he barely managed half of his very small plate.

‘What’s wrong?’ Kevin asked.

Jean glanced up quickly. ‘Nothing,’ he said.

‘You’re not eating.’

Jean let his fork clatter to the plate. ‘Yes.’

‘So why did you - ’

‘Because you were hungry, asshole,’ Jean said. ‘And I didn’t want to leave it that way.’

Kevin stared, and then put down his fork too.

They looked at each other across the table for a moment, each of them trying to find the words or figure out a way that this could work. Eventually, they came up empty.

‘I’m going to bed,’ muttered Kevin. He pushed back from the table and cleared his plate, and Jean watched him with something like desperation.

‘Wait,’ he said, scrambling up. ‘Wait, just wait.’

Kevin paused in the act of drying his hands. Jean spoke to the back of his neck, remembering what it felt like to brush it with his fingertips.

‘I know we don’t do this,’ Jean said, voice unsteady. ‘We don’t talk about shit like this. But I - I can’t do this without Jeremy. Any of it. And I can’t just sleep with you knowing it doesn’t mean anything.’

Kevin turned around, slowly. His face was pale and his eyes huge. ‘What?’

Jean dropped his head. ‘Don’t make me say it again,’ he muttered.

‘Jean.’

‘I know whatever we had before - when we were younger - I know that’s all over,’ he said. ‘I know you don’t feel that way about me - if you ever did. And I … I didn’t think it would be this hard, being close to you, and knowing that.’

That was as good as it was going to get from Jean tonight. Shame burned through him as he confessed as best he could. He wished very hard that Jeremy was here.

But Kevin wasn’t done with him. ‘What? _What?_ ’

A flicker of irritation. ‘Please,’ Jean muttered. ‘Just … I’ve said what I had to.’

Kevin got across the living room and up in his face quicker than Jean was ready for. All of a sudden Kevin was all he could see; his hands were holding his face, and he looked furious.

‘What?’ he demanded again. ‘Jean, what are you _talking about?’_ He was so angry he actually gave Jean a little shake. ‘I’ve loved you my whole life - my whole entire fucking _life_. And then I get here and - and you already love him, and I think it’s fine because so do I. But it’s always been you, Jean.’ He dropped Jean’s face and made a fist against his chest. His hand was trembling. ‘I thought it was just … me.’

Jeremy’s voice came back to Jean, saying how he thought Jean wasn’t seeing this correctly. As he looked at Kevin now, shaking and standing way too close, Jean wondered if he’d gotten something wrong.

‘You can’t look at me,’ he stammered. ‘You don’t ever let me touch you - ’

Kevin glared up at him. ‘Not if it didn’t _mean something_ , Jean.’

That was fairly deliberate. Surely somewhere, somehow, Jeremy was laughing at them both. The thought made Jean smile involuntarily, and Kevin abruptly dropped his gaze.

Jean paused, wondering what to do next. But even as he wondered, he found that his hand had already reached for Kevin. Heart hammering, his fingertips brushed his jaw, as they once had. Jean stepped in closer, banishing the space between them. Kevin’s eyes were averted, but his neck was flushed. Slowly, Jean tilted his head up towards him. Kevin’s eyes were so huge, so green, that Jean briefly lost himself in them, and forgot what he was here to do.

Then Kevin kissed him, and touched something so painful and dark in Jean that he gasped a little at the jolt in his stomach. Warmth spread through his body as they kissed, carefully, slowly, exploring this new territory.

Kevin’s hands came up to press against his chest, then up to his shoulders to pull him closer. Jean’s chest gave another sharp tug. He wrapped his arms around Kevin as they deepened the kiss, holding him as tightly as his body was crying out for.

Kevin abruptly broke the kiss, and drew his head back. Jean, utterly disorientated, tried to remember how to operate his limbs.

Kevin was breathing hard. ‘Does this - ‘ he tried. ‘Do you - ’

His eyes were searching, desperate. Jean’s mouth was dry; as usual, he had none of the right words. He pressed his forehead to Kevin’s, holding him close. ‘I’ve always wanted this,’ he murmured. ‘I’ve always wanted you.’ And then a few words in French, more of the same, but in a way that made Kevin’s body shudder and his hands suddenly clutch at him.

‘How can this not mean anything?’ Kevin breathed, pressing his body hard against Jean’s. Heat rippled up Jean’s spine, and he licked into Kevin’s mouth with a moan.

‘Come on, come on.’ Kevin was tugging on his t-shirt, puling him towards the bedroom. Kevin’s room, where Jean had never been. Kevin’s hands were strong and insistent, tugging on Jean’s clothes. He paused only to fling his own t-shirt across the room, then grabbed for Jean again.

They tumbled down on to the bed, limbs knocking together. Jean had thought he’d known what Kevin liked, based on watching him with Jeremy, but all of his plans went out the window as soon as Kevin took off his pants and told him to turn over.

‘Are you serious?’ Jean asked. He was naked and sitting against the headboard, looking bemused as Kevin rummaged around for lube.

‘Yes, I literally can’t stop thinking about fucking you,’ Kevin replied, business-like. He found the lube and tried to pop the cap, but his hands were shaking. ’Shit.’

Jean smiled. He reached out and took the lube from him, then jerked his head.

Kevin hesitated, then crawled quickly over to him. Jean drew him down on top of him, then reached for his hand. Slowly, he coated Kevin’s fingers in lube, and then kissed him until he reached down and touched him.

There was no laughing or teasing between them. From the second Kevin got a finger inside him, then two more, then his cock, they acted like they might get caught any moment. Jean pulled Kevin inside his body, arching his back and moaning quite unconsciously. In all of his fantasies, he’d never imagined he’d be doing it like this.

Kevin’s arm was strong around his chest. Jean braced himself on his elbows and let his head hang, trying to breath through it. It hurt - but when had he ever cared about pain? Kevin’s hand gripped him tight - exactly how Jean liked it - and the sound of him getting off behind him, out of sight, had him half out of his mind.

Kevin leaned down and kissed the back of his neck, hard, then buried a hand in Jean’s hair. He tugged his head back and kissed his neck, scraping the skin with his teeth. Jean hissed and bit his lip, pushing back against him.

It was rough, but not painful. It was vigorous, but Jean still felt in control. And, he realised, they weren’t even halfway done.

Jean pushed back and got up on his knees. Kevin read his mind and pulled out, shuffling back so that Jean could turn over. It should have been startling, disorientating even, to watch Kevin lining up and pushing inside him. Jean couldn’t take his eyes off him; the way his jaw clenched, then relaxed on the exhale as he bottomed out, like fucking Jean was pain relief. His eyes roamed down Jean’s body, zeroing in on the spot where they were joined. His hands slid down Jean’s thighs, then back up.

He leaned back down, over Jean, and pushed the hair back from his sweaty forehead. When he pushed in again, it was different. Jean gasped, and Kevin caught his lip. He murmured something in French, something slurred and barely words at all, that trailed off into gasp that sounded like Jean’s name.

How could this not mean anything?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will admit I got very carried away with this chapter. We might need an epilogue here.
> 
> I've added the tags but just so we're all aware there's a lot of sex at the end of this chapter, plus some light rough play and restraints. Nothing too physical and it's all consensual of course <3
> 
> ALSO I'm very sorry if my inverted commas cause some bother here. I wrote some on my laptop but the rest on an alphasmart, and the " " look better than ' ' on that and I was not fucked changing them all. 
> 
> Enjoy!!!!

Jean woke up some time in the night to a growling stomach and an empty bed. The pillow was still warm.

He found Kevin in the kitchen, drinking deep from a glass of water. He glanced over his shoulder as Jean approached, still drinking. Jean silently got himself a glass, then opened the fridge, scanning for leftovers.

‘Would Jeremy be mad if we ate his pasta from that restaurant?’ Jean wondered, breaking the silence.

Kevin put down his glass and wandered over. Their bare shoulders nudged together as they inspected the leftovers.

‘Lets eat it,’ Kevin decided.

They took two forks and the plastic carton and ate the rest of the pasta side by side, standing up in the dimly lit kitchen. After a few bites, Jean put his arm around Kevin’s waist. He was also holding the carton, and was happy to give up his right to more pasta, but Kevin fed him bites from his own fork. It wasn’t really a romantic gesture. Food was not an aphrodisiac for Kevin, but a necessary transaction. But he let Jean hold him close, and Jean’s heart beat happily in his chest as they quietly polished off Jeremy’s carefully hoarded leftovers.

‘He’s gonna be mad,’ Kevin mumbled, dropping the carton into the trash.

Jean put his lips on Kevin’s neck. ‘No he won’t.’

Sleepy again, and now full of illicit carbs, they returned to Kevin’s bed. Jean assumed it would be straight to sleep, but Kevin turned on his side and stared until Jean opened his eyes.

‘What?’

‘Have you always felt like this?’ Kevin asked.

‘What, sleepy? Full? That Jeremy gets too much cheese on his pasta?’

Kevin thumped him lightly on the shoulder. ‘No. About me.’

Jean sighed. He put one arm above his head and looked at Kevin. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It’s been kind of … simmering, these last few years. Thinking about you used to be painful, because of everything …’

Kevin nodded. His eyes were very dark. ‘Even after … I left.’

Jean hadn’t wanted to talk about this, but it was clearly keeping Kevin up. ‘Even then,’ he said. ‘I don’t know, maybe when you feel like that for someone when you’re so young … or while you’re both going through so much.’ He gave a little half-shrug. ‘That sticks.’

Kevin’s frown had appeared. ‘But, just because you felt it then … I mean, things change, don’t they?’

‘Are you saying _you_ don’t - ’

‘No no no, that’s not what I mean,’ Kevin said, dismissing that.

Jean smiled a little, tilting his face into the pillow.

‘I just don’t want you to feel like you’re obliged,’ Kevin said, with difficulty.

‘I don’t.’

‘I don’t want you to feel like you _have_ to feel this way.’

‘Kevin,’ Jean said. ‘I don’t. I don’t feel like that.’

Kevin’s mouth twisted. ‘How do you feel?’

Jean shifted closer in the bed. He now knew why Kevin had avoided his gaze and his touch up until now. When he reached out and touched his cheek, Kevin shivered. When he tilted his chin up so he could look him in the eye, he flushed right up to his ears. Jean would have known right away.

‘I love you,’ Jean said. ‘It’s been the one constant for me. And I know that life happens, and what we had as kids might not … ‘

He sighed, not wanting to sound fatalist. Kevin was still watching him.

‘I loved you then, and I love you now,’ Jean said. ‘And there’s no way to know what life will bring for us, or even what the future will look like, but I can’t imagine not loving you then, too.’

Kevin made a little noise in the back of his throat. He leaned in so their noses touched, and then their foreheads. He didn’t say anything back, but Jean didn’t need him to. He’d already said so much. And Jean had always been so good at reading Kevin.

When Jean woke up the next morning it was late, and he still felt tired. Kevin was beside him, sleeping as he always did on his side, curled up in the foetal position, fists up under his chin. Same way that Jean did.

He tried to focus on what had woken him up, but couldn’t. He was just about to drop off again when he heard a cabinet close in the kitchen, and some familiar footsteps.

Jean stretched out in the bed as he waited for Jeremy to find them. Both their doors were closed; Jeremy would likely know what had happened right away.

The door creaked open. Jean rolled over and smiled as Jeremy came in and knelt down beside the bed.

‘Hello.’ Jeremy seemed to be almost emotional as he took in the sight of the two of them in bed. “Have a good night?”

Jean hauled Jeremy up on to the bed, and Kevin sleepily pulled him over so he was lying between them.’ Did you get any sleep?’ Jean asked.

‘No,’ Jeremy sighed. ‘Got a lot of work done, though.’ He turned his head towards Jean with a smile. ‘How about you guys?’

‘Tragically we got no work done at all,’ Jean sighed. That got a muffled laugh out of Kevin, who was still half-asleep.

Jeremy laughed too, and rolled over to kiss Kevin hello. Jean lay back in bed, enjoying the quiet between the three of them before they would inevitably have to talk about it.

In the sleepy silence that followed, Jeremy was the first to speak.

‘Did you guys eating my fucking pasta?’

‘Kevin, quick,’ Jean said. ‘Take off his pants.’

Jeremy started to laugh as Kevin rolled over with a groan and reached for Jeremy’s button half-heartedly before giving up. ‘You do it,’ he muttered, falling back on to the pillow.

‘No, you do it.’

‘Well, someone better,’ Jeremy said, frankly.

Jean grinned. “Do you ever notice how he does that?” he asked Kevin, propping himself up on one elbow.

“What?”

“The second you touch him or even talk about a blowjob he gets instantly hard.’

Kevin made a quiet noise of amusement. “Oh yeah … he does.”

‘Ok, ok,’ laughed Jeremy. “Ok - but for real I am like, super tired, and - “

Jean looked over at Kevin. “You hear that? This is how it starts.”

They fooled around in bed for a while, sometimes sleeping, sometimes kissing. Jeremy didn’t press them for any details, but he spent a long few minutes smiling at Jean and stroking his face.

After their lazy morning in bed, they pottered around the kitchen fixing lunch. Jean and Kevin had the day off, due to some midweek fixtures so they went for a run, all three of them. Jeremy trailed, grumbling.

“How the tables do turn,” Jean quipped, sitting on their front steps, as Jeremy finally caught up.

“Ah, shut up,” Jeremy gasped, bent over with his hands on his knees.

“You should be running more,” Kevin said, critically.

“When is he supposed to be doing that?” Jean demanded, turning on him.

“Boys, please,” Jeremy said, recovering. He passed between them on the way to the door, with a casual touch on the shoulder for each of them.

Jean watched him go, a small smile on his face. He glanced at Kevin, who was fiddling with his water bottle and looking down at his feet. But he was smiling, too.

Over the next few weeks, Jean became convinced he was living in a dream. He couldn’t even call it his wildest dream, because he’d never been very imaginative. All of his previous wildest dreams had already come true. This was pure fantasy.

He rarely slept alone now; they rotated according to their preferences. Usually, Jeremy needed the most space; he’d be up late studying, or out, and their early schedules meant he might be disturbed when they got up in the morning.

So Jean and Kevin doubled up, most nights. They didn’t always have sex - in fact, they only did that sporadically. Jeremy joked that it was because they could go twice as long as he could, and didn’t want to hurt his feelings. It was actually because neither of them had the time to spare for such marathon sex - because they really could go twice as long as Jeremy.But in bed, they pressed up close, their hands and knees touching. Jean couldn’t believe they’d denied themselves this for so long. They were both sleeping through the night most of the time now. Only time and therapy could make the nightmares go away for good, but Jean’s were down at least 50%. Kevin seemed less restless too.

His attitude towards Jean had done a complete 180. While he was still his usual charming self, he was positively affectionate towards Jean. He touched him constantly, actively. It was like the floodgates had opened between them. Kevin brushed his arm every time he passed, kissed him in the evening, wrapped his arms around him in bed. It was all of the secret affection of their childhood, now out in the open, and none of the fear and paranoia. Kevin was almost giddy with it. Sometimes they caught each other’s eye and started laughing. It was too good to be true.

Jeremy had a big exam coming up. It wasn’t the end of semester finals, but it would decide a large portion of his grade. Jean hadn’t seen him this nervous since the championship final. Maybe even not then.

“I had a team to help me with the final,” Jeremy explained, running a hand through his hair. “This is all on me.”

He was kneeling on his bed backing his bag. He was doing the overnight study thing with a friend who lived on campus again, and going straight to the exam with him in the morning. Privately, Jean thought he would have done better with a night spent between him and Kevin, but he let Jeremy do what he thought he had to.

“Our team would have failed without you,” Jean said. He was lying back on the pillows.

“That’s not true,” Jeremy replied.

“It’s pretty true, actually,” Kevin said. He was doing pull ups from the bar in his doorway.

The corner of Jeremy’s mouth tugged up in a smile. “You guys have to say stuff like that.”

Jean looked him frankly. “When has Kevin ever said anything just to be nice?”

“You’re an asshole, Jean,” grunted Kevin.

“I still think you guys are more than a little inclined to be nice to me,” Jeremy smiled. “Have you seen my calculator?”

“Jeremy, I was mean to you for six months straight, and you suck my dick like four times a week,” Jean said. “The niceness is just extended post-orgasm bliss. And your calculator is right there.”

“That’s my spare,” Jeremy said, tossing it in his bag. “The five button is missing. Too easy to make a mistake. And what kind of bullshit is “extended post-orgasmic bliss”?”

Kevin coughed a laugh as he pulled himself up on the bar again.

“I’m not being nice to you on purpose,” Jean said. “It’s unintentional. So when I say you were the reason we won last summer, you can believe it.”

Jeremy looked up from his search, and smiled. “What are you angling for?”

Jean shrugged, ignoring Kevin’s snort. “I think you should stay home with us tonight,” he said. “You’re stressed, but you already know the material as good as you’re going to know it.”

Jeremy bit his lip. “I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on you guys,” he said. “I’m sorry, I’d be bad company.”

“He’s not asking you to play scrabble,” Kevin called out. He was making a joke almost every day now.

“Yeah, I’m pretty much talking about not talking,” Jean said, nudging him with his foot. “Could make you forget all about that exam.”

Jeremy laughed. “Yeah, I’d probably sleep in and miss the whole thing. Sorry babe, you’ll have to find a different bottom for tonight.”

Kevin actually burst out laughing. Jean gave Jeremy a harder nudge with his foot, then rolled off the bed. “You are very rude,” he said.

“Ah, you love it,” Jeremy replied. “Goddammit, where is my calculator?”

Jean left the room, jabbing Kevin’s stomach as he passed. Entering the living room, he exclaimed, “Aha!”

“What?” Jeremy scrambled out of his room. “Did you find it?”

“No,” Jean said. “I was just saying “aha!””

Jeremy ran and jumped on his back. Jean caught him with a laugh, then carried him back down the hall. Kevin let go of the bar and reached out to pull Jeremy off Jean’s back and into his arms. “Come on,” he murmured, kissing Jeremy’s neck. “We’ll make it all better.”

Jeremy tipped his head back, biting down on a smile with difficulty. Jean leaned in and kissed the other side of his neck. Jeremy was a strong man, but turns out he’s also very attracted to the both of them.

They managed to get him in bed long enough to make him come. While he dozed on Jean’s chest, Kevin went out and found the calculator, and packed the rest of his bag for him. Then he got Jeremy into the shower, and Jean made some food. By the time he was dressed, Jean had a sandwich with all his favourites wrapped and ready to go, as well as a container with an apple and the last of the grapes.

“You’d better eat that shit,” Jean warned him. “No more fucking takeout, ok?”

“Yes mother,” Jeremy replied, solemly accepting the gifts.

“Ew,” Jean replied, succinctly.

Jeremy put the food into his bag, then paused. He looked up at Jean, then at Kevin, who was sitting on the counter.

“You guys are very good to me,” he said, softly.

Jean shrugged. Surprisingly, it was Kevin who spoke.

“You have been extremely good to both of us,” Kevin said. “Even when we weren’t together. Even when you didn’t have to be.”

Jean nodded. “And we love you,” he added.

Jeremy grinned, flashing his teeth and dimples. Jean’s heart thumped happily.

Jean’s days took on a routine that he found deeply satisfying. Wake up, run with Kevin. Then he’d go to training, which he found both physically and mentally stimulating, due to the fact that his teammates considered him some sort of hero for saving their asses when Guyon got injured. The backliners were best placed to appreciate him, and now Jean was more able for the praise and backslapping than he had been at USC, so he was able to return some of the affection. He realised one day that this meant he had friends that he wasn’t sleeping with. Friends he might actually want to spend time with. So, occasionally, he hung out with them after training. Just for an hour or so. He’d go for a drive with Bear, or get dinner with Liljana. She said it would help his imagine to be seen with women more. “Unless that’s what you’re going for,” he said, over a particularly stunning filet.

“Eh…” Jean gestured with his fork. “I’m not ready for image stuff yet.”

“But you are gay?”

Jean chewed slowly and swallowed before answering. “Yes, how’d you know?”

“I am too,” she said. “I know the signs. Although, you are an ex-Raven, too. Some of the signs overlap.”

Jean allowed that. “But you’re not out,” he said.

“I am,” she said. “To my friends and family. And if the press were to suddenly ask me one day if I’m a lesbian, I’d say yes. But no one really cares when you’re this good.”

Jean thought about that. He and Kevin didn’t need to prove a thing to anyone about how they felt about each other. He’d actually prefer if no one ever got to speak a word about their relationship.

But Jeremy was a different story. Jeremy liked to kiss and hold hands, and tell his friends about the people in his life. The people he loved. Jeremy would never say it, but he’d love to hold Jean’s hand on their walks He’d like to tell people about his boyfriend.

Jean didn’t know how Kevin fit into that. Kevin was certainly not affectionate in public; he was quite concerned that being out would affect his game. He was naturally less tactile than both of them.

If it came down to it, Jean would have no problem admitting he was in a relationship with both of them. But at the end of the day, he and Kevin were simply too good to lose their spots on the team because of an unorthodox living situation that no one could prove. No one had to know whose bed he slept in at night.

‘Yeah, I don’t think I care either,” Jean told Liljana. “Thanks for the advice.”

She frowned. “Did I give you advice?”

“In a way. Hey, you’re paying for this right?”

Liljana happily got the cheque, in exchange for a promise she’d get to meet Jean’s partner one day. Jean said sure, he’d be more than happy to introduce her to his partner, singular.

When Kevin deliberately left his phone at home three days in a row, Jeremy pinned him to the couch and made him call Neil back. He sat on his chest through the call while Jean made coffee - the smell helped Kevin relax, though he never drank any of it. Turns out, Kevin had been avoiding Neil’s calls for a week, and hadn’t told anyone about his relationship with Jeremy or Jean.

“You don’t have to tell him,” Jeremy murmured, stroking Kevin’s cheek. “But I think you’ll feel better if you do.”

So Kevin begrudgingly provided Neil with an honest life update, in as few sentences as he could manage. After a few moments he pulled the phone away from his ear with an annoyed expression.

“What’s happening?” Jean asked.

“Andrew’s laughing in the background,” Jeremy told him, biting back a smile. “Quite loudly.”

Jean always thought a little teasing was good for Kevin. It kept him humble.

In his free time, Jean was learning the art of edging, and Kevin was his totally willing victim. One evening, when Jeremy was studying, Jean pinned Kevin to the bed and sucked his dick until he was just about to come. He pulled off slowly, thriving on Kevin’s deep breaths and hoarse protestations. Then he started working him up again, very slowly, using his tongue on the underside of his cock. It was an exercise in patience for Jean - he loved to make Kevin come - but it was also great because he loved giving head. He loved everything about it - the ache in his jaw and the weight in his mouth, and the way Kevin’s whole body reacted as he touched him. It was the most in control he could be.

Sometimes, Kevin and Jean would lie in bed together and just talk. Eye contact was a bit much for them in vulnerable moments, so they lay top to toe. Jean hooked an arm under Kevin’s leg, and Kevin held Jean’s ankle, and they talked quietly about the things they needed to say.

Jean loved relearning the shape of Kevin’s body. It had grown since last he’d touched him; it had gotten to a certain point where he’d been afraid to look at Kevin, out of fear that someone would see. Now, he ran his hand up Kevin’s bare calf, feeling the curve and the length, the soft and the steel.

“I’d know your hands anywhere,” Kevin murmured, half asleep.

Jean ran his blunt fingernails lightly over the sole of his foot. “How so?”

“Just do.” Kevin’s voice was slow with sleep, but always sincere. “Your fingers feel a certain way. And you touch me … you touch me like you do everything else.”

“How?”

Kevin sighed. “With great care,” he replied.

Jean didn’t think they’d been neglecting Jeremy, exactly. They were excited to have rediscovered each other again, and Jeremy was studying a lot. Jean didn’t want to put pressure on him. But one evening, when he and Kevin were doing some light cuddling in Jean’s bed, there was a little tap on the door and then Jeremy stuck his head around. “Do y’all have room?”

Jean truly loved that Jeremy had the confidence to do that. Even if he couldn’t see that Kevin instantly went hard at the sight of him, and even if Jean didn’t have a smile that he apparently used on no one and nothing but Jeremy, he still had the confidence to come and ask if they wanted him. As if the answer would ever be anything but yes, now, immediately.

Jeremy tied them all together. They were good by themselves, but transcendent as a threesome. Jean often wondered what all three of them would have been like on an exy court. They’d never find out now, not even with Court - Jean had quietly been contacted by the French national side. They hadn’t forgotten where he’d come from.

“You’re getting press over there, now.” Stephanie told him, sliding her iPad across the table. She’d bookmarked several articles about him from French magazines and sports blogs. “I’ve had a few emails, too. Exy’s really blown up there in the last few years. Their national side is decent.”

Jean knew it was. He’d been following several of the up and coming players, especially since Stephanie had made him get an Instagram account. She mainly controlled his public account, but he had his own private account he used for checking up on the Trojans and some of his own personal interests.

The French national team were good now, but in a few years they could be incredible. The local leagues weren’t anything to write home about, but there was talk of a European cup with Italy, Spain, and Ireland, where exy was also finding a strong foothold.

These were interesting times for Jean. He found himself striding through his days, full of energy that he gave freely. And some days, when the darkness drew in unexpectedly, he had a way to handle it. Jeremy always seemed to know instinctively when things were bad. Kevin less so, but that was because he had his own issues to contend with. Jeremy would quietly ask Jean if he wanted company, and if he did he’d get into bed with him and they’d lie in silence, unless Jean wanted to talk. He rarely did. He did most of his talking with Kevin, now. He let Jeremy kiss the back of his neck and rub his shoulders and usually in the morning things had receded again. Jeremy let him be; he didn’t fuss at him to eat or open the curtains.

Kevin had his own way of dealing with bad days. His ways were usually much louder than Jean’s. Jeremy, oddly enough, was often less sure of how to handle Kevin like this, and Jean had to remind himself that Jeremy had not lived a lifetime with Kevin, nor even a year. It had just been a few weeks of seeing Kevin at his best and at his very, very worst.

They made it to Thanksgiving. Kevin had been reluctantly coaxed to Palmetto for the event, and after Jeremy writhed with indecision for three days Jean finally told him if he didn’t go home he would refuse to touch to him the whole weekend. Jeremy’s family were everything to him, and he would be sick with misery if he missed out on their big Thanksgiving Knox family gathering.

“Besides, I’ll just be training,” Jean reminded him. Kevin would also get in late that night, for his game in the morning.

Jean and Kevin were not holiday people. The Nest hadn’t observed any religious or state holiday the entire time they were there, and so such traditions were completely foreign to him. Jean knew that Kevin was worried Jeremy would invite them both to his house for Christmas, since his father had already admitted he was going to Abby Winfield’s family for the occasion. Kevin surely did not trust himself in loving family environments, where no one was liable to be violent or cause some sort of scene. Definitely out of his comfort zone.

“Relax,” Jean said, the night before Jeremy left. “He’ll get his family time in and he’ll come back happy but sick of them, like always.”

“He has a great relationship with his family,” Kevin frowned.

Jean smirked. “Trust me. There’s only so much of his sisters he can take.”

And he was right. Jean spent a peaceful weekend reading and watching the snow falling outside his window. He had a new coat and boots to combat the elements, and while he hated cold more than anything other sensation in the world, he had to admit there was something quite enticing about it.

Kevin returned home late Thanksgiving night, and Jeremy rolled in two days later, full of restless energy and desperately horny.

“I’m never leaving you again,” he declared, crawling into Jean’s arms and immediately trying to get his head under Jean’s t-shirt.

“Happy to oblige,” Jean replied, with a silly smile, as Jeremy pressed his cheek to his stomach.

“Did you miss me?” Jeremy murmured, running a hand over his stomach.

“Constantly,” Jean said, turning a page in his book. “Hey, while you’re down there, can you - “

“I’m not giving you head.”

Jean sighed. “Not missing you as much right now.”

Jeremy pinched his nipple, hard, and Jean yelped and dropped his book. When Kevin got home from a meeting with his agent, he found the two of them tussling on the couch, with Jean’s pants unbuttoned and Jeremy’s t-shirt pushed up.

“You couldn’t have waited for me?” He grumbled.

“We’ve barely done anything,” said Jean lazily, rubbing his growing erection.

Jean found he got just as much enjoyment from watching Kevin and Jeremy as he did from being involved himself. It was a different kind of pleasure, heightened always by the knowledge he could join in at any time. Now, Kevin dropped his bag and crossed to the couch. He leaned down to kiss Jean swiftly on the side of the head, making Jean glow softly inside. Then he grabbed Jeremy by the hair and kissed him roughly on the mouth. When they broke apart, Jeremy was grinning savagely.

“Well, now you’ll have to fuck him.” Jean declared.

“No problem,” Kevin breathed, kissing him again.

Though their couch was not large, they made great use of what space was available. Once they were naked, Jeremy straddled Jean’s waist, his cock in Jean’s hand. It was a cramped position for him, but Jeremy did a lot of yoga to accommodate his busy sex life.

Kevin was behind him, buried deep. Jean was always amused to see that Kevin’s sex face was the same as his exy face. He was delighted to be one of two people who knew that.

Jean held Jeremy steady while Kevin fucked him, stroking him just slow enough that he wouldn’t come. It got him all tight and twisted, body thrusting forward into Jean’s hand and head thrown back. Kevin had one hand on Jeremy’s throat; he didn’t squeeze or hold him tight, but kept him in a firm grip. Just as rough as Jeremy liked it. Together, they knew exactly how to work him.

Kevin’s knees were between Jean’s, hot in the places where they pressed together. Kevin’s other hand was on Jeremy’s hip. Jean’s was folded over it.

Kevin pushed Jeremy down on top of Jean, meaning he was probably about to come. Jean had already reached his climax; he talked a big game, but a weekend without either of them had taken its toll. Now he stroked Jeremy firmly, finally giving him what he wanted. He spilled all over his chest with a full-throated cry that Jean caught the tail end of with his mouth. Kevin thrust hard into him, hips stuttering, and bit his shoulder to muffle his own cry of release.

Jeremy’s body was often marked in this way. Little bite marks, hickies, finger-shaped bruises. He counted them with pride afterwards, truly seeming to enjoy the little stings and aches. Jean didn’t really understand how pain might become pleasure, but he was happy to provide it if that’s what Jeremy wanted.

Kevin breathed hard against the back of Jeremy’s neck. His fingers clutched Jean’s, who held him just as easily as he did Jeremy.

Their combined weight was now fully on top of Jean, who was quite happy to hold it. But he knew Jeremy would be getting a hell of a cramp right now.

Jean kissed the corner of his mouth gently. “Welcome home,” he said, squeezing Kevin’s hand.

Jeremy laughed softly, jostling the two of them. “I love you,” he said, kissing whatever part of Jean he could reach. “Kevin, lets not leave again.”

Kevin leaned back and pulled out, slowly. Jean smiled as Jeremy winced, and kissed him through it.

“Fuck,” Kevin sighed, still breathing heavily. “Yeah.”

“He’s so good with words, isn’t he?” Jean murmured to Jeremy, with a little wink.

Jeremy had started coming to their games on a regular basis. Usually, it was whoever had the home game, but they ran into a situation whenever there happened to be a double event. Jeremy had a lot to say about how they should decide which game he went to. Currently his favourite suggestion was that they should wrestle for it.

“I’m not wrestling him,” Jean declared. He was on his back, trying to crack his hips.

“Afraid I’d beat you?” Kevin was eating grapes from the stalk with an insolent look on his face.

Jean barked a laugh, almost dropping the cord he was using to pull his leg up.

“If you think you’re stronger than me then you can go ahead believing that,” he said.

Jeremy leaned over the back of the couch. “So …?”

“So what?”

“So why won’t you wrestle him?”

“Oh, because he fights dirty,” Jean said. “He’d scratch my eyes out or kick me in the balls.”

Kevin shrugged. “Fight to win.”

Jeremy laughed. “Fine, fine,” he said. “I’ll think of something else.”

“Hey, no fighting,” Jean reminded him. “I don’t do that anymore.”

“You guys used to scrap?”

Jean let out a little sigh of relief as his hip finally _thunked_. “Fuck, thank god. Yeah, we used to kill each other. Remember that time, on the exy court after hours - ?”

He craned his head up to look at Kevin, who had abruptly stopped eating.

“What? Come on, you remember.”

Kevin shook his head. “I don’t like remembering that.”

“What?”

Kevin fussed over the carton of grapes, pushing it around the table for a moment. “Hurting you,” he said.

Jean let his leg fall back down. Jeremy was smiling gently down at him, where Kevin couldn’t see.

“Oh,” said Jean, eloquently. “Ok, ah - fair enough.”

Kevin, flustered, rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled something about an exy game before retreating to his room. Jean sighed and sneaked a glance up at Jeremy for help.

“Don’t look at me,” Jeremy said, still smiling. “That’s not my area.”

Jean let Kevin stew for a while, then went to find him. He was watching exy at his desk, and Jean was sure he heard him come in, but he still tensed when Jean touched his shoulder.

Jean gently took his earbuds out, then kissed the back of his neck.

After the initial outpouring of affection between the two of them, they had returned to their more reserved ways. But it wasn’t like before. Now, Jean had liberty to touch him like this, and knew it would be reciprocated. Kevin often surprised him with a touch or a kiss he hadn’t expected, too. It was more than he had expected from Kevin.

The vibe with Kevin was always a little different than with Jeremy. When his body had visibly relaxed under his touch, Jean swung around and sat in his lap, straddling him with ease. Kevin’s hands went to his thighs automatically, though he glanced down with pink ears.

This was one of the many things Jean loved about Kevin; he could easily take his weight. Jean cupped his face and kissed him gently, knowing this was something that Kevin would not necessarily be able to put into words, but needed comforting regardless.

But Kevin surprised him.

“I don’t want to talk about things like that anymore,” he said. “I don’t want to remember you like that.”

Jean stroked his cheek. “I get that,” he said. “I don’t like remembering it either. But I can’t forget it. It’s part of me, even if it’s a part I don’t like. I wouldn’t be who I am today without it.”

Kevin frowned. “No. You are who you are in spite of it.”

Jean paused and stared at Kevin for a long moment, Then he kissed him again, hard, and didn’t stop.

Christmas was approaching. For Jean and Kevin, it meant an increase in games and a decrease in training hours. As exy’s popularity soared, so did the demand for entertainment over the holidays, particular with Christmas vacation in the college leagues. Their training hours were reduced to give them a break, and as a result Kevin and Jean found themselves with far too much time on their hands. And with Jeremy in full crunch mode for his exams and final assessment, they had to rely on each other for entertainment.

At first, Jean tried to be productive. He read, went to museums, explored the city some more. But it was so cold out now, and he didn’t like being out in it for any longer than he had to be. He did not find the snow charming, and he viewed ice as a direct threat to his career and livelihood.

Kevin had only one true passion in life, so his list of hobbies was slim. After just a few days he was mooching around Jean and giving him heated looks. Jean considered himself a strong man, but Kevin had taken to wearing loose sweatpants and very short, tight t-shirts around the apartment. He claimed Jean kept the apartment too hot for him, but Kevin hated the cold just as much as Jean did and was still walking around with his whole midriff on show.

Jean’s eyes followed him around the apartment. He was quite enjoying his book, and he liked to tease Kevin. It was up to him to make a move.

Finally, Kevin yanked the book out of Jean’s hands and got down on his knees. And so, they found their new pastime.

And because Jeremy was so busy, and they were so the opposite of busy, they got a little too obsessed with each other.

“I never knew you had so many of these,” Kevin said one night. They were naked in his bed, and Kevin was running his hands over Jean’s stomach.

“What, moles?” Jean quipped, knowing full well what he meant.

Kevin flicked his nipple. “Scars, asshole.”

Jean smiled. He ran his fingers through Kevin’s hair for a minute, enjoying the sensation of Kevin’s body pressed up against his.

“I know,” he said. “I like to think of them as one for every time I told him no. At least, in my head.”

He shouldn’t have brought him into this, but the words were already out. Kevin’s hand stilled on his chest.

“Sorry,” Jean murmured.

But Kevin was touching him again, with more intent this time. Jean thought he heard him say “It’s ok”, before he went down on him again.

That was as far as they got in terms of conflict resolution or discussing past traumas, but it worked for them. They had an understanding that went beyond words.

As the days went by, Jeremy got quieter. He went from class to labs to library, and Jean knew he wasn’t eating but he wasn’t around for long enough for Jean to argue with him about it. And he didn’t want to argue with him. He missed him; they both did.

Jeremy’s favourite relaxation technique was, incidentally, sex. Between the two of them, Jean and Kevin conspired to convince Jeremy to take an evening off. “It’s for stress relief,” Kevin told him sternly, over breakfast. “You’ll burn out.”

“And you know it’s bad if this guy’s saying it,” Jean pointed out, gesturing with his spoon. “Please eat your egg, darling.”

Jeremy grinned ruefully, but dutifully cracked the top of his egg. “Fine, one night off,” he said. “I guess it’s hard to convince myself it won’t hurt me in the long run.”

Kevin stared at him, quietly. “Learning when to take breaks was something I had to learn the hard way,” he said. “My first year at Palmetto. I worked everyone too hard. I pushed myself too hard.” He flexed his scarred hand, then made a fist. “Almost made it worse.”

“You taught me.” Jean reminded Jeremy. “Remember? You gave me shit for the 16 hour days right away. Remember how long it took me to kick all those bad habits? I couldn’t figure it out until you showed me.”

Jeremy looked thoughtful for the rest of breakfast, and took his time kissing them goodbye.

“Oh, by the way.” Jean added, before he went out the door. “I thought of how we can decide whose game you come to on the 23rd.”

“Oh?” Jeremy looked interested. “Do tell.”

Jean shrugged. “You’ll find out when you come home tonight.”

Jeremy headed off with a little smile on his face and a full stomach, which Jean considered a huge win.

“What’s the idea?” Kevin asked. He was already itching to leave for training but his face was alive with curiosity. It made Jean pause, and smile; Kevin had stopped being curious about anything a long time ago.

“You’ll see tonight,” Jean said. “But you’ll like it.”

After training, Jean went to the health food store and got a bunch of things Jeremy liked to eat. Then he picked up strawberries, chocolate, and wine. The Kevin-Jeremy-Jean food pyramid.

His last stop on the way home was to pick up something he’d ordered to Stephanie’s PO Box. It was now at her apartment, so he had to show his face and let her wonder what was so private he didn’t want it delivered to his place. She didn’t actually ask what it was, her face did all the asking.

“Will you at least come in for a drink?” She said. Her apartment was airy and spacious, and on another day Jean might have said yes.

“Sorry,” he said, hefting the grocery bags. “I’ve got plans.”

When Jeremy came home, they had dinner on the table. It smelled so good that he drifted directly towards it without even putting down his bag.

“Oh, man,” he said, inhaling deeply. “Is this how we decide? An eating contest?”

Jean snorted. “I guess that might have been a good idea. But you’d win, which would sort of defeat the purpose.”

It was a good, nourishing meal, but a deliberately light one. Jean withheld the good stuff for afterwards. After they’d eaten their fill, Jeremy sat back in his chair and looked at him expectantly.

Jean had enjoyed withholding the information, but under their gazes he relented. “Ok,” he said. “Come on, then.”

Jean had the biggest bed, so they reconvened in there. He’d made some effort - candles were lit, scented and all, and he had fresh sheets on the bed. “Damn, Jean.” Jeremy said, visibly impressed. “Starting to feel very special.”

Jean nudged him. “Take your clothes off.”

Part one of the evening was the contest. Whoever won would decide whose game Jeremy attended.

“It’s simple,” Jean said, taking off his pants. “Two handjobs, simultaneously. Whoever lasts the longest, wins.”

Jeremy blinked, eyes wide. “You mean, you jerk each other off?”

Jean glanced at Kevin. “Actually, I thought it might be fun if you did it.”

Jeremy was grinning now, and Kevin was already half hard. “Ok, I like this plan.”

Kevin and Jean sat on the bed against the headboard. Jeremy opted to keep his own pants on, but they were totally naked.

“You can’t touch me,” Kevin warned Jean,jerking away as their legs brushed together. “That’s cheating.”

Jean shrugged. “Fine. If you think you can’t handle it.”

Jeremy smiled. “Jean, play nice.”

Jean was actually happy that Kevin had said it first. This wouldn’t be easy.

They were both familiar with how Jeremy did things. He licked both of his palms and looked at Jean. “You want lube?”

Jean shook his head. “Nope.”

Kevin also shook his head, looking defiantly at Jean.

Jeremy just shrugged. He couldn’t stop smiling.

He started with a slow, steady rhythm. He kept it even for both of them, and he wore a concentrated expression that told Jean he was working hard to keep things fair.

Jean considered himself a fairly controlled individual. He’d resisted things he’d wanted for a very long time. But lately, he’d begun to indulge himself, especially when it came to pleasures like this. Looking at Jeremy, being touched by him … his body wanted that pleasure. It wanted him to come.

Before long, Kevin’s body was tensing up. Jeremy’s hand was moving a little faster. They both preferred hand jobs a different way, but Jeremy wasn’t doing anything fancy. It was just good, solid work on his part, and Jean was incredibly turned on.

His thumb rubbed over the slit of his cock, then with a twist of his wrist spread the tiny bead of precome down his length. Kevin was already wet and leaking, and his breathing was coming quick and fast.

Jean tried to relax, to enjoy without wanting to chase. Even so, his hips twitched, desperate to thrust up. He bit his lip and resisted reaching out for Kevin like he normally would.

Jeremy was wearing a sharper smile now, and the bulge in his sweatpants was pronounced. He didn’t speak - of course he had taken to the rules and spirit of the contest without Jean having to say anything about it. If he spoke, they’d both be done for.

Jeremy kept a steady rhythm as Kevin got more and more worked up. Jean’s body was tense, and the pressure was building in his abdomen. His breath was coming quick and fast, and the feeling of Jeremy’s hand was all he could focus on.

But then Kevin broke. With a cry, his body clenched and arched up, and he spurted all over Jeremy’s hand, who leaned in quickly and took him into his mouth. Kevin thrust up with a gasp, burying a hand in Jeremy’s hair with an agonised expression that quickly edged into a blissful smile.

Jeremy swallowed until Kevin was done, then pulled back with a smile. “Jean wins,” he said.

Jean currently was coming down off a painful edge. He fisted his hands so he didn’t reach for his aching cock. Jeremy noticed.

“Hey, it’s ok,” he said. “You can finish. Here, let me.”

But Jean grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Actually,” he said. “We’re not done.” He took another deep breath, steadying himself. “Tonight’s for you.”

Kevin was already off the bed, looking like he’d gotten his second wind. He did a little jump, jogging on the spot briefly, shaking off the effects of his orgasm. Jean reached into his bedside drawer, and withdrew what he’d ordered online.

Jeremy’s eyes went wide. Jean had long ago come to terms with what had been bad for him was quite different for Jeremy, so the sight of the padded handcuffs didn’t elicit anything in him other than a stirring of excitement.

Kevin was drinking deeply from a bottle of water; Jean had left several of them on the dresser. Jean now sat up properly, and beckoned Jeremy closer. Jeremy took off his pants and underwear and then crawled into his lap. They kissed, bodies pressing close. Then Jean turned them gently, holding him down. He was focused entirely on Jeremy now, ignoring the ache between his legs. Carefully, he lifted one of Jeremy’s hands and closed the cuff around it. It was loose, but not enough to come off, and the padding was soft but firm. He drew Jeremy’s hand up to one of the bedposts, and looped the other cuff around it. Jeremy brought his hand up, eyes bright and fixed on Jean, who finished cuffing him with a jolt of pure arousal.

The cuffs were useful little things. They kept Jeremy’s arms firmly above his head, and had a rotating joint on each which would allow them to turn Jeremy over without having to uncut him.

He did so now, knowing that Jeremy loved to be taken from behind. He ran his hands over Jeremy’s ass, savouring it.

Kevin appeared with the lube. He had already slicked up his hand; as Jean did the same, Kevin climbed up on the bed and slipped a finger inside Jeremy.

Together, they worked him open, but they did it very slowly. Jean added his own finger beside Kevin’s, and then another. Kevin’s free hand brushed his cock with the lightest of touches, the barest stimulation. Jean hadn’t said anything, but he thought they could get Jeremy to come untouched. But first, they needed to hurt him a little. He could see his body crying out for it. Jeremy was always so controlled, and his life was so busy and stressful. He needed release. He needed them to hold him down and give it to him.

They worked him for a long time, to the point where he was more than stretched enough for them. But Jeremy craved the feeling of being penetrated deeply, and their fingers weren’t giving that to him. He pushed back against them, making desperate little noises of desire. He begged them, sounding increasingly strung out and wild.

Jean probably could have pushed him harder, but he was already so hard he was half out of his mind.

He nudged Kevin back, then lined himself up. He waited a moment for Jeremy’s body to relax a bit, then pressed the head of his cock against his hole.

Jeremy hissed and instantly pushed back, but Jean let his cock slide up between his ass instead. He did that a few times as Jeremy growled with frustration. Kevin went to the top of the bed and pulled Jeremy’s head back by his hair. He kissed him deeply, distracting him. When Jean pushed in all the way, Kevin bit his lip for an extra sting.

Jean fucked him hard and slow; sharp, heavy thrusts that knocked him forward. Kevin pushed Jeremy’s mouth down on his own cock; it wouldn’t take him long to get hard again.

Jean went slow as much for his benefit as for Jeremy’s. Personally, he liked it hard and fast, but that would tip Jeremy over the edge too quickly.

When he felt himself getting close, he stopped, and with a Herculean effort, pulled out.

Jeremy moaned, tugging at his restraints. Not being able to touch himself was starting to drive him suitably crazy. Kevin, looking hot and flushed, switched with Jean. He quickly flipped Jeremy over, then pushed inside him. Jean took his place at the top of the bed, and pulled Jeremy’s legs up as far as they could go.

He let Kevin go crazy for a while, savouring every cry it wrung out of Jeremy. Then, feeling that he personally had suffered enough, he tilted Jeremy’s head back and put his cock in his mouth. He fucked his mouth slowly, wanting him to gag but not choke. He deeply enjoyed seeing Jeremy’s throat work, feeling his tongue flat against his length. A few minutes of that and Jean was coming fast down his throat. Jeremy gagged and coughed around him but Jean kept a tight grip on his hair until he’d swallowed everything, knowing that Jeremy was well-practised in breathing through his nose.

Once he’d come down, he focused on Kevin. Jean had every intention of getting hard again - if Kevin could do it, so could he. The two of them had gone for almost 5 hours, once. Jean wanted Jeremy to sleep for 12 hours straight, and this was the best way he knew to achieve that.

Kevin put his fingers in Jeremy’s mouth and leaned down on top of him. He whispered in Jeremy’s ear, and whatever he was saying made Jeremy’s back arch and his moans increase, now slurred slightly around Kevin’s fingers. Jean sat back for a breather, stroking Jeremy’s hair, and wondered how much more he could take.

Jeremy did manage to get off by sneakily rubbing up against Kevin while he was on top of him. Jean didn’t mind; it wouldn’t be the last time.

When Kevin had to stop, they switched tactics. Jean was only halfway there, so he flipped Jeremy over again and pushed his face into the pillow. He started fingering him hard, trying to keep the same pace as Kevin had. Jeremy bit the pillow and cried out hoarsely, his body trembling. Jean would pause every few minutes, not wanting to push him too far into overstimulation. He would mouth over his balls gently, trying to give him just a little release. Jeremy was hard again, and leaking. The room was fiercely hot, and the flickering light of the candles showed rivulets of sweat rolling off their bodies.

Jean leaned his body over Jeremy’s, murmuring into his ear about how much he loved him, how badly he wanted to fuck him. Inspiration struck, and he began to kiss the space between his neck and shoulder. Kevin rejoined them and applied his mouth to Jeremy’s hip. Together, they bit and sucked bruises into his skin, the sharp pleasure-pain action dragging the happiest groans from Jeremy’s sweet, bitten mouth. It was the perfect interlude, letting his body recover from the intensity of how they’d fucked him right up to the edge.

Jean rolled him on to his back, and got between his legs. He started fucking him again, faster this time. Kevin stayed where he was, colouring up his neck some more. Then he sat up, and swung his leg over Jeremy’s body. Jean got to watch Kevin fuck his face, short little thrusts that kept his dick buried down Jeremy’s throat, nose pressed into his hair.

Jean could feel himself approaching the point of no return again. Jeremy was straining at the cuffs again, desperate to move.

“Kevin,” he panted. Kevin inclined his head just enough to let Jean know he was listening. “Make him come again.”

Kevin obliged, leaning back to grab Jeremy firmly. He stroked him fast, almost rough, and Jeremy gagged on his cock again as he climaxed, come spurting out in weak drops. Jean added his own hand, smearing it over his abdomen.

They switched again. Jean thought he might actually die when he pulled out this time, but Kevin was making similar noises of frustration.

Jeremy lay on the bed between them, weak and moaning gently. His eyes were glazed, and Jean could see with satisfaction that they’d fucked all the stress right out of him. But they weren’t finished.

“Can you take some more?” he whispered, cradling Jeremy’s head in his hands. He kissed him on the lips, small little pecks, coaxing him back to life. “We’re not done with you yet, baby.”

Jeremy moaned, rolling into his arms as best he could. Jean worried briefly that his arms might be getting too sore; he reached out and massaged his shoulders gently, murmuring his concerns to Jeremy, who only shook his head. “Fine,” he gasped. That was all the words he was capable of.

Jean could see on Kevin’s face that this was the last time for both of them. When he spread Jeremy’s legs again and pushed inside, Jeremy cried out weakly. Jean played with his nipples as Kevin fucked him hard, merciless now, with no intent other than to get off. Jean didn’t touch Jeremy this time, and Kevin leaned right back so nothing could stimulate his cock. With a hard grip on Jeremy’s ass, he came inside him, head thrown back. Once the initial shock receded, Kevin pulled out and spilled over Jeremy’s stomach. He was now slick with it, white droplets and smears covering his abdomen, chest, and inner thighs.

Jeremy’s breath was a series of uneven gasps. As Kevin fell back, exhausted, Jean reminded him, in a voice just loud enough, not to touch Jeremy.

Jean reached over and uncuffed Jeremy from the bed. Letting Jeremy lower his arms for some relief, he kissed him gently across the sore spots on his body, tasting all three of them on his chest. Kevin ran his hands over Jeremy’s legs; firm, soothing touches that brought him back from the edge once more.

Then Jean turned him over. He pulled his hands behind his back and cuffed him again, then pulled his ass up and pushed his head down.

Kevin pulled Jeremy’s legs further apart as Jean lined up. His hole was red and wet, well used. Jean was approaching something close to delirium.

He pushed in, roughly. His cock felt harder than it ever had before. He gave it to him, holding him down with one hand on the small of his back, and the other gripping his ass hard enough to bruise.

Jeremy had gone entirely non-verbal. His voice was muffled by the pillow as he took what Jean gave him. Still, little sighs of pleasure drifted up, punctuated by moans of ecstasy. When Jean bore down on him, feeling the end approaching, Jeremy came again, entirely without being touched. His cry was beautiful. Kevin, lying beside him, reached out to help him through it. He kissed Jeremy’s shoulder gently, then locked eyes with Jean.

There was a lot of mess. Jean almost collapsed on top of Jeremy, barely holding himself up. His hips pistoned against his ass, pushing him up on the bed. When his vision returned, he tried to pull out as slowly as he could, but Jeremy hardly noticed.

They rolled him over, and Jean uncuffed him. Kevin had already come to his senses so he let Jean lie there against Jeremy, one arm around him, while he went for a damp towel.

Together, they cleaned Jeremy up. He murmured in their hands, but was otherwise senseless. They cleaned every bit of him, and then Kevin lifted him while Jean pulled the top sheet off.

It was still, technically, early. Jeremy was still pretty out of it, but was also clean and dry and covered in bites and bruises. They put him in the middle of the bed and spent a long time kissing him and whispering to him. He fell asleep with their arms around him and a smile on his face.

Leaving Kevin to cuddle him, Jean went to the kitchen and drank two bottles of water straight. Then he grabbed the wine and strawberries and went back to the bedroom. Half of the candles had burned out so he flipped on the bedside lamp and climbed in beside Jeremy. Their bodies had cooled down, so he tucked the blanket around him and threw a sweater at Kevin.

“No glasses?” Kevin queried.

Jean made a face at him. “You licked my come off Jeremy’s chest and you’re worried about sharing a bottle?”

Kevin actually laughed. “Mm, you got me strawberries?”

“Well, I sure didn’t get them for me,” Jean replied, taking a swig of wine. “There’s chocolate for Jeremy, but I guess I should have realised he’d be out.”

“He’ll appreciate it tomorrow,” Kevin said, reaching for the bottle.

They drank in silence for a while, their bodies still coming down from the high.

“The handcuffs were a pretty good idea,” Kevin admitted.

Jean huffed a laugh, feeling so incredibly at peace with the world. “Thank you.”

“I was thinking, we could get him more stuff he might like,” Kevin went on, tentatively. “There’s this, ah - “

“Vibrator? I’ve been thinking about that too.”

Kevin blinked, then smiled. “This was a really good idea,” he said. “You know him so well.”

Jean shrugged, taking the bottle back from him. “He was a bit like this during our final exams, and the championship game,” he said. “I remember thinking at the time that he just needed someone to pin him down. Take that control away from him for a minute.”

“Good instincts,” Kevin murmured.

They drank in silence for another little while.

“I think this could really be enough for me,” Kevin said, surprising Jean with the strength of his voice.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” said Kevin. “I’ve got dad. I’ve got Jeremy. And I’ve got you.” He turned and looked at Jean. “I’m … I’m very glad I’ve got you.”

Jean reached out and touched his cheek. “Me too,” he said, quietly.

It didn’t matter, Jean thought, that he’d gone his whole life without anyone wanting him. Despite what he’d told Kevin before, all of that may as well not have happened. He really was here in spite of it all. Jean Moreau had come out on top, and nothing was going to take this away from him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have arrived at the end! 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's read and commented. These are dark times, and the response to this fic has kept me ticking over. This fandom is small but so mighty.
> 
> stay safe and thank you all so much <3333

“There’s mail for you.”

Jeremy waved the letters at Jean from the door.

“They can only be bills,” Jean said, glancing up at him. “I’ll get them later.”

“No one sends paper bills anymore,” Jeremy replied, setting them on the table.

Jean smiled a little. “I know.” Truthfully, it just sounded nice and normal to say.

Jeremy was still looking at the mail. “I think this one’s from France,” he said.

Jean stifled a groan. That was the letter that had arrived at Stephanie’s office, which she had rerouted for him. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. He was getting ready for bed, and didn’t want to think about the French national side reaching out again. He was pretty sure Kevin, at least, hadn’t considered the fact that they wouldn’t play Court together.

The evening of the 23rd was their big game against the LA Thunders. It was effectively a 6-point game, as both the Wanderers and the Thunders were enjoying an unbeaten run of form. If it came down to the last day of the season, games like this could decide the whole thing.

And Jeremy would be there. Jean was actually excited.

“Have you heard the song they sing about you yet?” Liljana asked, sitting down next to him in the dressing room.

Jean pulled on his boots. “I’ve heard it,” he said. It was something about being French and the way he knocked the ball out of the opponent’s racquet; he could never quite understand the lyrics. But he gathered it was quite flattering.

“The fans are really into you,” Liljana went on. “I advise you to lean into that.”

Jean thought about that as they lined up. He was starting again with Liljana, and the crowd cheered even louder when his name and number were announced. They roared when he dispossessed the Thunders’ starting striker, slamming the ball out of her net and hitting it so far up the court it reached a Wanderer’s striker, and from there into the goal. It was the first assist of three that game - for a backliner, significantly above average.

Despite that, it was a tight game. Jean came off at half time, and spent the third quarter bouncing around the dugouts until Coach put him back on again. Despite his mixed feelings about exy, Jean was coming to terms with the fact that this was what his body was built to do. His limbs had the strength and the muscle he needed, and his body could take what he was asking of it.

When the final buzzer sounded with the Wanderers a point in front, the roof almost lifted off the stadium. Jean was very tired, but the adrenalin of the chase still zipped through his veins. And they were playing his song. It was more of a chant, to some popular song he didn’t recognise but he’d heard Jeremy humming a few times. He really must learn the words.

As they began leaving the court, Jean looked back and raised his racquet in the direction of the home fans. The roar he got in response had some of his teammates turning around in surprise. Jeremy was up there, Jean knew. Behind his helmet and his mouth guard, where no one could really see, he was grinning.

Jean had to do some press, of course. They were very eager to talk to him after his performance, and his growing assist tally.

“That’s 8 in the last three games,” one reporter eagerly pointed out. “Do you plan on continuing the streak?”

Jean shrugged. “Well, I do whatever I have to do to win the game. If I see an opportunity to pass the ball into a dangerous area, I will do it.” He paused, remembering what Liljana had said. “And Coach has promised us pizza if I get to ten before the end of the year.”

Laughs all around. The reporters grinned gleefully at this glimpse at the lesser-spotted Moreau humour, and Jean felt an odd flicker of satisfaction.

Jeremy was waiting for him in a taxi outside the stadium. It was one of those nice ones with the privacy partition. Jean barely had the door closed before Jeremy was on him.

“I have never wanted you more,” he breathed. “Than when you hit that final pass for the striker to convert.”

“There is something deeply wrong with you,” Jean replied, pulling Jeremy on to his lap. They kissed the whole way home, and Jean wouldn’t have cared if ever exy journalist and blogger had their noses pressed to the window.

Traffic on the Wanderers side of town meant Kevin beat them home. The Knights hadn’t been so lucky; they’d just scraped a draw against Penn Pros. Jean checked the results on his phone as they sat in traffic and hoped Kevin wouldn’t be in bad form.

When they got home, however, they found Kevin in the centre of the living room, lights off, lit only by the Christmas lights he was incredibly tangled in.

“Is this in lieu of a tree?” Jean asked, as Jeremy gasped in delight.

“Tree tomorrow?” Kevin queried, turning a tight circle towards them.

Jeremy waded through the tinsel and wrapping paper to kiss Kevin and gently untangle him, and Jean gave him a thumbs up behind Jeremy’s back. Jeremy had been just a little melancholy about spending Christmas without his family, so they’d really been trying to make it special for him.

They spent the rest of the evening secretly wrapping each other’s presents in between drinking eggnog and mulled wine and decorating the apartment. Jean and Kevin were a bit more trained in Christmas activities since their time out of the Nest, and for Jeremy’s sake they were throwing themselves into the celebrations with gusto. Jean had gotten Kevin a beautiful hand-knit hat and scarf set, with matching gloves made of a special waterproof material, for the coldest of hands. Kevin only seemed to wear black and Knights colours, so Jean had chosen a deep burgundy with gold trim. Grown up Trojans colours.

He’d agonised for weeks over Jeremy’s gift until he’d spotted a hand-stitched leather satchel in a store he wouldn’t normally even poke his head into. Jeremy had been lugging his school stuff around in the battered backpack he’d had since high school, which was quite literally falling apart. Jeremy was so careful with his laptop and papers, and this satchel seemed to have hidden compartments for everything, with a strong strap that would go around his body.

It was expensive. But Jean had been handed a fat Christmas bonus by the Wanderers, and Stephanie’s clever managing of his finances meant it was transferred to him directly and was not officially part of his salary. Jean was more than happy to spend some of it on Jeremy.

He and Kevin had also spent an evening bickering over a sex toys website before finally going halves on a vibrator and some other interesting recommended items. Kevin was surprisingly embarrassed by the whole thing; only Jean’s clinical interest and determination got them to the checkout stage.

“Can’t believe this is my life,” Kevin said, tapping away on his phone to transfer his half of the money to Jean.

“If only old Tetsuji could see us now,” Jean agreed, scrolling through the summary of their order. Far from adding a chill to the room, the idea of their old Master - Coach - knowing what they were up to made them both fall about laughing.

On Christmas Eve, they all had their own morning errands to run. Jean had brunch with the backliners, where they exchanged Secret Santa gifts. He’d gotten Bear, which was great because all Bear wanted was Kevin’s signature on a Raven’s jersey. Kevin had brought it back with him the last time he’d been down to Palmetto, signed in his heat, distinct hand. Since that had cost him nothing, Jean had added in a little succulent plant and a candle, since Bear was always going on about Feng shui and good vibes in his apartment.

Brunch was a fun, rowdy affair. Jean allowed himself to be plied with mimosas, and they talked about everything except exy, which suited Jean just fine. Liljana presented him with a very fine and expensive bottle of red wine that made Jean’s mouth water just looking at it. Before he could thank her, she also handed him an envelope. “Open that later,” she murmured, with a smile.

Jean returned home around 2pm, happy and more than a little tipsy. The apartment was empty, so he put the wine by the stove and had a little nap on the couch. He woke up to Jeremy tickling his nose with something green and leafy.

“Hello, sleepy.”

Jean wrinkled his nose. “Is that poison oak?”

“You think everything green is poison oak,” Jeremy said.

“I’m very mistrustful of the natural world,” Jean explained, swatting the mistletoe away and stretching up for a kiss. “Kevin home yet?”

“Yeah, I met him downtown,” Jeremy said, sitting on the ground next to Jean’s head. “He’s showering.”

“Why?” He’d showered before he’d left the apartment. This was excessive even for Kevin.

Jeremy grinned. “Ah, the Knights Christmas breakfast got a little rowdy. Apparently there was some press, and a photo op, and they all got sprayed with champagne. Some more than others.”

Jean laughed deep in his throat. “Oh no,” he murmured. “Was he very sticky?”

“ _So_ sticky,” Jeremy laughed, nuzzling Jean’s neck. “But I think he had a good time.”

“Mm. Did you? What did you get from your friends?”

The nerds been very generous, which didn’t surprise Jean in the slightest. Jeremy was so generous himself, and so deeply appreciative of kindness, that giving him gifts was a very rewarding experience for all involved. As he showed Jean the cards and gifts he’d received, a towel-wrapped Kevin slunk out of the bathroom.

“Hey Kevin, I thought we should have some champagne tonight, what do you think?” Jean asked, without looking up. Kevin growled unintelligibly, then shut his bedroom door firmly. That earned him a light slap from Jeremy.

“Ah, tis the season,” Jean said, rolling over on the couch again and smiling up at the ceiling.

Once they’d eaten, they went out to pick up a tree. Jean had been skeptical about this practice, but kept his doubts to himself as Jeremy led them through the yard.

“So, is it presents tonight or tomorrow?” Jean asked, as they surveyed the offerings.

“Ah, usually tomorrow,” Jeremy said, poking at the branches. “But we can do whatever. What do you do normally?”

Kevin and Jean glanced at each other. “Oh, we usually did presents on both days,” Jean said, breezily. “We really got into the spirit of things at the Nest.”

“Really giving atmosphere,” Kevin added.

Jeremy looked around at them, sheepish. “Oops.”

Jean ruffled his hair, then squeezed the back of his neck gently. “You want this one?”

“This one’s good.”

Luckily, they weren’t too far from home. The tree wasn’t especially heavy with three of them carrying it, but the scratchy needles kept going down Jean’s collar.

They spent a very enjoyable afternoon decorating their tree. Jeremy had picked up dollar store baubles and tinsel, but had a small box of very nice decorations from his parents to class it up a little. Jean mostly just drank mulled wine and let Jeremy drape tinsel on him, but Kevin really seemed to enjoy the experience. The strategic placing of the decorations definitely appealed to his Type A personality. Jeremy was playing Christmas songs and was wearing a Santa hat, and kept giving them little rum-tasting kisses the more eggnog he drank.

“You’ve got some mail,” Kevin noted, nodding at the letter on the table that was still unopened and addressed to Jean.

“I know.” Jean didn’t want anything to put a damper on the day, and Kevin was sure to pout if they had to get into the whole Jean’s-not-technically-American issue, so he just put the fruit bowl on top of it and poured himself another mulled wine.

They had snacked so much throughout the day that no one felt like a big dinner. Instead, Kevin presided over a charcuterie board, wielding a knife with incredible dexterity given how much vodka he’d been drinking. He seemed to enjoy feeding Jean grapes, putting them to his lips and then brushing a thumb across his cheek. Jeremy ignored the fruit and went straight for the cheese, as usual.

They ended up warm, drunk, and well-fed in front of the TV, which was playing the fireplace channel. Jean had his head in Jeremy’s lap and his feet in Kevin’s, and was enjoying their careful attentions at both ends.

“I love Christmas,” he said, dreamily. Jeremy was scratching his scalp in just the right way; his eyes were almost rolling back in his head. And Kevin was giving him a very firm foot massage.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Kevin murmured. “Because it’s my turn next, and my feet are killing me.”

Jean stretched until his bones creaked. “Sure, as soon as my feet feel better we can switch. Did I say stop?”

Sometimes, Jean could just feel when Jeremy and Kevin were looking at each other. Usually it was the romantic kind of looking, but the weight of the silence between them told Jean they’d been talking about him.

Jeremy began by speaking his name, gently. “Jean. You’ve got a letter from France over there.”

Jean closed his eyes and sighed. “Yes, I do.”

“We are concerned that you’re putting off something important,” Jeremy went on. “Maybe something that you should be doing.”

Kevin squeezed Jean’s foot. “I haven’t forgotten that you’re French,” he said, in a surprisingly soft voice. “Jeremy said you might be concerned about how I’d react … when it comes to internationals.”

Jean opened his eyes and glanced up at Jeremy. “When did we talk about that?”

Jeremy smiled. “We didn’t.”

Jean closed his eyes again. “Ok, ok. I will open the letter. After Christmas. Ok?”

Jeremy patted Jean’s cheek, knowing when to drop it. “Of course,” he said, quietly. “Thank you.”

Jean could sense discontent in the rank. “Kevin,” he murmured. “Your fingers feel tense. My feet are not enjoying it.”

Kevin shoved his legs off. “Massage your own feet.”

Jean rolled his eyes, then sat up. “Kevin,” he said, tenderly. “Don’t be a bitch on Christmas.”

Kevin turned his head to glare at him; Jean took his face in his hands gently, and kissed him. “Everything’s ok,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere. If it makes you feel better, we can go thrash it out on a court somewhere.”

Kevin pouted, but kissed him back. “It’s fine,” he said, mulishly. “I just hate not knowing.”

Jean might have given in to that on another day. But the simple fact was that he wasn’t ready. Whatever was in that letter was not gnawing at him. And this was his life.

“I’m sorry,” he said, stroking Kevin’s face. “Would it help if I massaged your feet now.”

Kevin scowled. “Yes.”

That night, they had sex on the living room floor and then slept there, in a pile of blankets. When Jean woke up in the morning he found himself staring up at the Christmas tree, with Jeremy tucked under one arm and Kevin’s back pressed against him. The apartment was cool around them, and he was grateful for their warm bodies.

In the moments before they woke up too, Jean found himself in a moment of complete contentment. Christmas with his family. How incredibly normal of him.

Their day was simple, but fun. First they had breakfast, and then went out for a brisk walk in the snow. There were families everywhere, going to and from Church, playing in the park and walking dogs. They threw some snowballs at each other and scared some pigeons. Jeremy’s cheeks were red, and he was breathless with laughter.

When they got home, Jeremy went into cooking mode. The turkey was defrosted, vegetables peeled and chopped, dessert was made. Once everything was in the oven, Jeremy declared it was time for presents.

Jean never knew how to receive a gift; he’d had precious little practice. But, as he was coming to realise, he never needed to act any type of way in front of Kevin or Jeremy.

Instead, he had to figure out how to react in the face of their incredible kindness and love.

Jeremy had somehow managed to locate a very old, very beautiful edition of Les Miserables in the original French. It was Jean’s favourite book, which always earned him some teasing about his pretentious reading habits. There was also a very elegant fountain pen and a bottle of ink. Jean had never owned anything so fine in his life.

Kevin presented him with a painting. It wasn’t by anyone Jean recognised, but it was somehow the exact set of colours and patterns that lit up all the happiness sections of Jean’s brain. Lavenders, streaks of rose, mauve, taupe.

“How … “ He couldn’t manage words as he held up the little canvas painting to stare at it.

“My strike partner’s wife is an artist,” Kevin said. “Takes commission. Asked for your colours. Those are your colours.”

Jean could hardly speak. He looked from one to the other, wondering what he could possibly say to thank them.

“Open mine,” he said, with some difficulty. “Please.”

Jeremy’s eyes nearly fell out of his head when he unwrapped the satchel. “This is _too nice_ , Jean - !“

“It will look perfect on you,” Jean said, touching his cheek. Kevin smiled at them from across the wrapping paper-pile, all wrapped up in his hat, scarf and gloves. The colour looked excellent on him, as Jean had predicted.

Jeremy had gotten Kevin a map of the world. It was aged and sepia toned, with curling script, and came with a marker that you could use to colour in the countries you’d visited. It was so precisely Kevin’s thing; Jean was very impressed.

And for Jeremy, Kevin produced a basket of the finest chocolates New York could provide. Nestled in that basket was also a beautiful royal blue tie and a pair of gold cufflinks. “For when you defend your thesis,” he said.

It was a real home run for Kevin. Jean could see how happy their reactions made him; Kevin so seldom got things like this right, especially on the first try.

Jeremy laughed his ass off when they gave him the vibrator. His cheeks were very pink as he thanked them through smiles. Jean and Kevin crowded him, kissing his mouth and his neck; they nearly let the turkey burn.

Dinner was amazing. Jeremy was turning into a very good cook, but Jean took full credit for the dessert.

“You are very good with fruit, Jean Moreau,” Jeremy said, taking another mouthful of crumble.

“I live with two of the best,” Jean replied. Kevin almost choked on his wine.

Jeremy guided them through the rest of Christmas. Crackers, and then charades, which Kevin was hopeless at. “This isn’t even my first language,” Jean pointed out, amazed. “How are you this bad?”

Then came more wine and movies, again of the Christmas variety. Jean napped through them, with Kevin under one arm and Jeremy under the other. Snow fell gently outside, and Jeremy’s gentle laughter and Kevin’s warm weight against him were better gifts than anything Jean had received so far.

He found Liljana’s envelope on his dresser later that night. Opening it, he found that it was a gift card, for two people to attend a fancy couple’s spa outside the city. Jean smiled, and tucked it away. It would be a nice surprise for Jeremy when Valentine’s day rolled around.

Jeremy passed out early from a combination of food and excitement. He had had a long call with his family, during which time Kevin and Jean had cleaned up all the dishes and then made out on Kevin’s bed for a while until Jeremy came looking for them. He tried to join in, but fell asleep almost immediately.

“Well, that’s flattering,” Jean said, dryly.

Kevin nestled in beside him. “Lets sleep here tonight,” he suggested. So they did.

Jean and Kevin had training the next day, but just a short session. Jeremy slept in, and had cleaned the whole apartment when they got back. He had two weeks off from school, and had already gotten the results of his exams, so he was in an excellent mood. Training had been tough after two days of laziness, but everyone had been in a good mood. So Jean found himself calmly reaching for the letter under the fruit bowl, totally unbothered about what might be inside.

Kevin and Jeremy were bickering companionably about what to do for New Years. Jeremy wanted to go down to Times Square, but Kevin was angling for a quiet night in, which was code for marathon sex.

“We can do that any night of the week,” Jeremy said, smiling. “There’s only one New Year’s Eve! And if you hate Times Square, we can do something else next year. But we have to do it at least once. No one will recognise you, especially if you’re bundled up.”

Jean grinned to himself as he slid a finger through the envelope. The paper inside was heavy and cream coloured, and the writing was small. He moved over to the window for the light.

“Everyone will be drunk,” Kevin complained.

“You can be drunk too!”

Kevin paused. “Well, maybe.”

Jean was still grinning as he started to read. Then his grin began to fade. After a few minutes, Jean became dimly aware that his hands and feet were cold. The letter was getting harder to read, because it was shaking slightly.

After a few minutes of trying to decipher the end of the letter, Jean put it aside for the second piece of paper, which was handwritten in a neat script on plain A4 ruled paper.

This letter was much harder to read. Jean read the first half, skimmed the rest, then closed his eyes and pressed the back of his hand to his mouth.

The silence in the apartment took a while to register with him. When he realised that Kevin and Jeremy were staring at him, he tried to force out something that would ease their concern, or brush the moment aside. But he simply couldn’t. Every foundation he’d built his life on was crumbling in his hands, shredded by two pieces of paper.

Kevin and Jeremy acted quickly. Kevin snatched the papers from his hand while Jeremy took his face in his hands and tried to bring him back.

“Jean,” he said, gently. “Jean. Are you ok? Talk to me.”

Jean could barely hear him. His brain was repeating the highlights of the letter over and over, flashing them cold in front of his eyes.

“Oh, Christ.” Kevin was, of course, reading the letter. Jean wondered which one he’d started with.

“Kevin, what?” Jeremy didn’t take his eyes off Jean, until Kevin didn’t reply. Then he looked up, fear drawing the colour from his face.

“I - it’s - “ Kevin shook his head slowly.

“Ok, it’s in French and I can’t read French,” Jeremy said, too quickly. “Can you summarise? Please tell me quickly what’s going on.”

“Please give those back,” Jean said, hoarsely.

They both looked at him. After a beat, Kevin handed the papers back.

Jean had exhausted his supply of words. Now, he sank down into his chair and let Kevin fill Jeremy in, using shocked, quiet words. Jean reread the letter.

_To: Jean Moreau_

_RE: Last Will and Testament of Pierre and Cecile Moreau_

_Dear Jean,_

_I hope this letter finds you well._

_As the executor of your parents’ Will, I am contacting you with unfortunate news. It is with my deepest sympathies that I must inform you of the death of your parents. The incident occurred on the evening of December the twelfth of this year; their car went off the road due to some inclement weather, and they were pronounced at the scene._

_The benefactors of their Will are three; yourself, and the two other biological children of Pierre and Cecile. It has been brought to our attention that you have been unaware of their existence, and they to yours. I have attached, by their request, a letter of introduction._

_We are aware of your work schedule, and have arranged for a reading of the Will to be available to you at our partner firm in New York City. This can be scheduled at your convenience, by calling the number overleaf and citing the above mentioned case number. You may also give them permission to handle transfer of funds from your parents estate, and any and all material items you may wish them to manage._

_If you have any questions, please feel free to email or call. My contact information is below._

_On behalf of our firm, we offer our sincerest condolences for your loss._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Claude Nguy_ _ễ_ _n._

Earth-shattering enough by itself. Jean set it aside, and reread the much folded sheet of A4. It was bulky, due to the sellotaped attachments on the back.

_Dear Jean,_

_My name is Alec Moreau. I’m twelve years old (almost thirteen). My brother Sebastian is eight. He’s sitting here as I write this letter. Our parents are dead, and we are very sad. We are staying with our godparents now. I think we are going to live with them forever._

_I’m sorry we have never met. Mama and Papa never told us about you. I don’t know why - maybe they missed you too much. They wrote us a letter that the lawyer gave to us. It said that you went away to school in America, to play exy. The lawyer helped us find you. We have already seen you on the internet in France! Sebastian thinks you are very cool._

_We miss our parents very much. I’m sorry you have to miss them too. We have sent you some photographs of our family so that you can remember them. We are too young to go to America, and we have to go to school :( But we would like to meet you some day. Maybe when you come to play exy in France! And when we are older, we can come to see you play in New York City. Maybe you could get us some tickets. Sebastian says that would be really cool._

_We have to go now. My hand is getting sore from writing. My godmother says we can get an email address, and you can write us emails if you want. She says we will be sad for a long time, but getting to know you and sharing our memories of Mama and Papa will help._

_I hope you are well, and not too sad to hear about our parents. Will you send us a letter back? That would be really cool._

_Love, your brothers, Alec and Sebastian._

*

If they’d asked him, Jean wouldn’t have known which cut was the deepest.

But no one spoke. They sat on either side of him; Jeremy chafed his hands gently and Kevin, motionless, until finally, Jean couldn’t bare it anymore. He wanted to not be thinking. Jeremy would panic if he started to drink, so instead he said, “I’m going to go to bed now.”

They let him leave in peace. Jean didn’t blame them for having no idea what to say.

He forgot to change out of his clothes. His room was in darkness, so all he had to do was pull back the blankets and shut his eyes.

The first things he saw when he closed his eyes were the childish signatures of his brothers at the bottom of their letter. The second were the bright photographs that had been sellotaped to the back of the letter - happy, smiling faces of a happy, smiling family that he didn’t recognise, except for the man’s eyes and the woman’s smile and the nose of one little boy. That’s what Jean’s had looked like, before it had been broken.

He didn’t sleep.

Some time later, Jeremy opened the door. Jean dreaded that he would speak, but he didn’t. Instead, he crawled into the bed beside him and wrapped his arms around Jean’s body, just like he always did when he was having a bad time.

A few minutes later, Kevin came in too. He shut the door behind him, leaving them in total darkness again. Then he got in on Jean’s other side.

There wasn’t enough light in the room for Jean to see his eyes. But he knew they were open, and fixed on Jean.

Kevin laid a land on his cheek and pressed their foreheads together. In French, he said, “You don’t have to talk right now. Or tomorrow. We are going to help you with this. You’re not alone.”

Kevin’s French was crummy; he had no accent. That was actually good for Jean right now.

On the inside, he was cold and empty. On the outside, he was warm, and touched by loving hands. It grieved Jean that he could barely feel them.

He woke early. Kevin and Jeremy slept on beside him as he stared up at the ceiling. There was no split second where he didn’t recall the night before. It was like his brain had been turning it over all night, and had it all presented for him as soon as he was conscious.

Jean sat up, wondering what to do. He climbed over Jeremy’s prone body without concern that he would wake, then padded out to the kitchen for water.

The letters and photographs were on the coffee table, neatly folded along with the envelope.

Jean’s hand shook slightly as he raised the glass of water to his mouth. He pressed the glass to his forehead, trying to breath steadily.

He went for a long walk by himself. They would see that his usual walking gear was gone and guess where he was. Jean’s entire ability to function seemed to be shutting down. He couldn’t look at his phone.

“Call Stephanie,” he told it, eyes closed on a street corner.

“It is very early,” was Stephanie’s opening line.

“I need - time off,” Jean forced out. He struggled to remember the words. “Compassionate leave.”

Stephanie was immediately alert. “Jean? What’s happened?”

Stephanie’s response was strong, but didn’t shock him. It was appropriate for someone who hadn’t known Jean’s relationship with his parents. She told him she’d contact the club, get him a few days off. Jean assured her he’d probably only need today, maybe tomorrow. Just until he had become used to the idea that his life wasn’t what he’d thought it had always been.

It occurred to Jean throughout the course of the morning that his life had taken the oddest inverse turn to Kevin’s. Kevin had always thought his father hadn’t wanted him, or hadn’t even known he’d existed. Jean had always assumed that his family hadn’t wanted children. They’d both been wrong.

The snow began to fall at some point, and Jean realised he was very far from home, and very cold. He still couldn’t look at his phone, so he turned left and then left again until he found a subway station.

By the time he got home, he was almost too cold to get the key into his door. It turned out he didn’t need to; Jeremy flung the door open almost as soon as the key grazed the lock.

“Oh my god,” Jeremy breathed, clutching him. “You’re like ice. Kevin!”

Kevin almost fell over the coffee table in his haste. He fluttered around Jean while Jeremy peeled off his layers, then wrapped his arms around Jean’s bare chest while Jeremy ran the shower. They gave him some privacy, but Kevin did storm in eventually to demand he come out again.

“We pay for this water!” He snapped, his face pale and worried as he pulled Jean’s unresisting body from the shower.

Jean managed to dry off and get into his own clothes without resistance. He was starting to get irritated at their interference and hovering, finally snapping at Kevin when he offered to make his bed for him.

The snap made Kevin pause, then relax. Jean realised he’d been waiting, hoping, for a normal reaction.

Jean didn’t want to eat or talk, but he realised he needed to give them something. Jeremy’s face was white with strain. Jean blinked at him in surprise, then reached out to touch him. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Jeremy raised his eyebrows, then slowly relaxed into a smile. “Jean,” he murmured. He reached up and took Jean’s hand. “Talk to us. Are you sad?”

Jean pulled his hand back. He looked from one to the other in confusion. “Sad? No, I’m not - why would I be sad?”

“Because your parents are dead,” Kevin said, testily.

Jean made a dismissive gesture. “So? I never knew them. Two strangers are dead.”

“So what is it, Jean?” Jeremy asked, gently. He took his arm and rubbed it. Jean was still very cold. “What’s hardest for you right now?”

Jean had been tugging on his hair all morning. He reached to do it again now, but Kevin slapped his hand away.

“Ow,” Jean said, belatedly.

“What’s the worst part?” Kevin demanded, quietly. “Tell me.”

Jean looked at him, but didn’t really see him. He was seeing his little brothers again.

“What am I going to tell them?” He asked. “What excuse can I have for not reaching out all these years?”

Jeremy glanced at Kevin uneasily. “You can … make something up. They don’t need to know about the Moriyamas. Just say school was busy, or - “

“They love their parents,” Jean interrupted. “Look, they were a happy family. Why didn’t they ever call me? Why didn’t I ever call them?”

“But you couldn’t, you were - “

“They didn’t want me to,” Jean said. “I have spent my whole life trying to be ok with that. They didn’t want children; I was just a business transaction. Not great, but I get it.”

Jean crossed to the table, shrugging both their hands away. He picked up the letter his little brother had painstakingly written by hand, and ripped off one of the photographs. He could still barely stand to look at it.

“This is not the family that didn’t want me,” he said. “How can these be the same people? Alec is twelve - my brother. He’s twelve. I’m twenty two. She was pregnant with him before I had even left.” He shook the photo, or maybe he was just shaking. “Do they look like they’ve had an unhappy childhood? Why don’t I have any photos like this?”

Jeremy’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, but Jean suspected it was more a reaction to Jean’s distress than because he really knew what was going on. Kevin’s face was white, his expression grim.

Jean didn’t know how else to say it. He didn’t know how to communicate that the story he’d been telling himself his whole life was a lie. It wasn’t that his parents hadn’t wanted children.

“They just didn’t want me,” he said. His arm fell, and the photo slipped out of his fingers.

After that, Jean thought it was best that he didn’t say anything for a while. He could feel an anger rising up inside him the the hadn’t had to deal with in a long time. Jeremy hadn’t liked him when he was angry. Kevin might be able to handle it better, but he had been doing so well with his own anger recently. Jean couldn’t let this bring either of them down.

He went swimming, and swam for a very long time. Jean was trying to exhaust himself to the point where he couldn’t hit something when he really wanted to.

He got home late and incredibly weary. He expected everyone to be in bed, but they were waiting up for them. Jean couldn’t suppress a sigh.

“Please,” he said, quietly. “Not now.”

Jeremy stood up. “Jean,” he said, softly. “It’s ok. You don’t have to talk about anything tonight. There’s something Kevin wants to say.”

Jean leaned against the door. “Fine. What?”

He should have done Kevin the courtesy of at least looking at him, but Jean was wrung out. He felt utterly bereft, and deep down he was very confused. He wished they could just all go to bed.

“Jean.” Kevin was speaking. “You have brothers. You have the kind of family you never imagined you might have.”

“Their parents never wanted me to know them,” Jean said, dully. “Whatever I was like as a child, it was enough for them to want to send me away and try again for something better.”

“Fine,” Kevin said. “Maybe. You’ll probably never know.” He hesitated. “If this had happened a few years ago, I’d probably be angry too. But Jean, why do you give a shit what they think? You were twelve; they’re strangers. You said yourself they were barely around. How could they possibly have known who you were, or who you’d turn out to be?”

Jean’s hands curled into fists. “Why was I expendable,” he said. “Why didn’t they fight to keep me?”

“Because they were terrible - “

“They weren’t!” Jean snapped. “Clearly, they were not bad parents. You saw those photos. Those kids were happy, they loved their parents. How can I talk to them? How can I even look at them?”

Kevin stepped towards him. “Listen,” he said. “You are immeasurably less fucked up than I was when I found out about dad. Do you remember what you said to me when I found that letter?”

Jean snorted. “Probably told you to forget it and focus on exy.”

“Jean,” said Jeremy, softly.

“No, that’s pretty much exactly what he said,” Kevin said. “It wasn’t what I needed to hear then, but it’s all we were capable of. You are almost a completely different person today. You. Have shown me more care and kindness than …” Kevin paused, and shook his head. “We were both terrible people then. We’re not now. And you’re fucking amazing. Those boys are lucky to have you.”

Jean’s eyes filled with tears, very unexpectedly.

Jeremy stepped in at the right time. “We have time,” he said soothingly, rubbing a hand over Jean’s back. “Months and months to get used to this. But Kevin’s right - you are so well-adjusted now, Jean. You are more than capable of dealing with this. And it starts with you acknowledging that your parents actions are no reflection on you, but on them.”

Jean allowed a few tears to fall down his cold, expressionless face. “I just don’t understand,” he said, quietly. “I wish they’d … I wish they’d loved me like they loved them.”

Jeremy put his chin on Jean’s shoulder. “I know,’ he said. “It’s not fair. This is grief, Jean. It doesn’t feel good. But it will go away, I promise.”

Deep down, Jean knew it would. This was just something else he would have to get used to until it faded into the background enough so that it didn’t hurt him anymore.

“Maybe you were just a business transaction,” Kevin said. “That’s why you were sold to the Moriyamas, right? Because your parents had debts.”

“I guess,” replied Jean, dully. “So?”

Kevin was staring at him intently. “Maybe giving you up was harder than they’d expected it to be. Maybe they regretted it every day until their new child came along and gave them a reason to do better. I think they knew they didn’t deserve you, Jean. So they had to work extra hard to prove they deserved your brothers.” He broke off with an angry shake of his head. “Not sure they did.”

Something about the irritable set to Jean’s shoulders, and the way Kevin was so visibly angry on his behalf, sparked warmth in Jean’s belly. “Kevin, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Kevin’s eyes widened, but Jean just gave him a look until he relaxed.

“He’s been going over that speech all night,” Jeremy said, his lips grazing Jean’s ear in a smile.

“You said you wouldn’t tell him that.”

“I lied,” Jeremy said, easily. “I won’t cover up acts of love.”

Jean was still looking at Kevin. After some hesitation, Kevin stepped into his arms. Jeremy was strong, but Kevin had been hurt like this before. Even if he didn’t know how to put the pieces back together, he was strong enough to help Jean find his own way.

“I love you,” Kevin said, holding him tightly.

They let Jean be quiet for as long as he needed. He suspected Kevin had talked to Jeremy and explained how Jean typically processed complex emotions. In the past, this had typically been prolonged periods of silence, interspersed with punching things. Jean didn’t do the punching anymore, so he made up for it with more silence.

Two weeks later, Jean finally woke up and felt like the fog had cleared. He had understood Kevin’s words before, and seen the sense in them, but it hadn’t touched the painful, gaping hole inside him.

On this morning, it was still raw, and he was still confused. But Kevin’s words circled his brain, and this time Jean could finally absorb them.

Jeremy had taken to sleeping in his bed every night. Jean realised with a pang of guilt that he’d been neglecting them both. Kevin was more used to it, but Jeremy must have been hurting.

Jean rolled over and took him into his arms. As expected, Jeremy barely stirred. His nose wrinkled briefly and his eyelids flickered before he settled again in Jean’s arms. His familiar, sleepy weight provided Jean with incredible inner peace.

He held him until Jeremy finally woke up. He had a game that evening, but had already come to terms with skipping his morning run to better enjoy his newfound inner peace.

Finally, Jeremy stirred properly. Jean made sure he was smiling when he woke up.

“Hello,” Jeremy murmured. Jean’s response was to kiss him, long and deep, trying to make up for the missed kisses of the last few weeks.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Jeremy asked, when Jean finally let him breathe.

“Better,” Jean said. Then, “I need to make it up to Kevin.”

Jeremy reached for him again. “Oh, I think he’ll be happy with this.”

He was. Jean caught him after his run. “Hey, you sleep in this morning?” he queried, looking up from where he was chopping some apples.

Jean caught his face with one hand and kissed him, softly. His other hand found Kevin’s waist, pulling him in close.

Kevin made a little noise of surprise but responded quickly. His hand brushed Jean’s cheek, apple-scented.

They didn’t need to talk about it. Kevin studied Jean’s face and figured it out for himself. “I’m glad you’re ok,” Kevin said, simply.

Jean nosed at him, feeling how badly he’d missed him. “Thank you,” he murmured. “You knew exactly what to say.”

“You always were a slow thinker.”

Jean pinched his waist gently. “Deep thinker.”

Kevin sighed. He leaned against Jean, relaxed in a way Jean wouldn’t have dreamed for him a year ago, and picked up one of the whole apples. He bit into it thoughtfully, one arm looped around Jean’s neck.

“So, what are you going to do now?” He asked.

Jean just gazed at him quietly for a few moments. Only when Jeremy wandered out into the living room, bare-chested and tousle-haired, did he feel compelled to speak.

“I’m going to write to them,” he said, softly. “And … I’m going to call that law office.”

Kevin’s fingers grazed the side of his head. “Big decisions.”

Jeremy leaned on the counter. “We’ll be here for you the whole way,” he said, sincerely.

“Well, I might be busy,” Kevin said, taking another bite of his apple.

Jean snatched it from him, and held it above his reach. Jeremy laughed as Kevin struggled, then caught the apple when Jean threw it.

“Lets hang out tonight,” Jean said, suddenly. Having them both so close was starting to wake up that other part of him that had been out in the cold.

“Sure,” Jeremy said. “We haven’t tried out my Christmas present yet.”

Jean raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“We wanted to wait for you,” Kevin said, snatching the apple back from Jeremy, who was beaming at Jean.

Watching the two of them play fight in their little home, Jean felt his heart swell. Really, he thought, he should be thanking his parents, or the memory of them. Jean never would have thought anything he went through in the Nest was worth it, but it had brought him to Kevin, and to Jeremy. They weren’t consolation prizes. They weren’t even a reward. They were the best things that could have ever happened to him, in any version of his life.

Stephanie helped set up a meeting at the law firm. She also agreed to come with him, so that she could hear and understand everything that might pass him by. Jean was grateful to have someone smart who was on his side.

The reading of the Will was very simple. Jean didn’t know what he’d been expecting - another letter, an apology, some sort of explanation? He didn’t get one. What he did get was 1.5 million euros - about 1.8million dollars. The sum was staggering; Stephanie told him afterwards that only about 500,000 was liquid - the rest was his share of their property in France, and another in Monaco, as well as some stocks and other bits and pieces that Jean didn’t quite understand. Stephanie also told him that his parents had done well with investments. She would get him someone reliable to manage the money for him.

Jean hadn’t thought he’d care much about the money, but now he found that he did. Given his debt to the Moriyamas, it was only right that his parents support him.

“I’m just surprised they left me anything,” Jean told Kevin and Jeremy, later. “They must have felt really guilty.”

Jeremy was running his hands through Jean’s hair. Jean was sitting between his legs, his back pressed up against Jeremy’s bare chest. Kevin was lying sideways on the bed, with their legs across his lap.

“Maybe this is how they make up for it,” Jeremy said. “Or try to. If they had reached out before this, would you have been happy to hear from them?”

Jean thought about that. “I don’t know,” he said, honestly. “Probably not.”

“Maybe they were planning to,” Kevin reasoned. He was rubbing Jean’s ankle. “Untimely death and all … maybe you were always in the Will.”

“I guess I’ll never know,” Jean said, softly.

“Are you ok with that?”

He shrugged. “It’s not a great way to end things. But it’s the end I’ve got.”

All that was left to do now was write the letter.

_Dear Alec and Sebastian,_

_I was very glad to get your letter, though I am sorry it is under such sad circumstances. I hope your godparents are taking good care of you, and that you will be happy with them._

_You sound like very smart boys. I would love to hear more about your lives. Do you play any sports? If you like exy, I would love to send you some presents._

_While I am sad that I have missed out on knowing you up until now, I would like to change that. It would be great if we could exchange emails. I am not good at email, but my friends are helping me. You sound very clever, I am sure you will be able to figure it out quickly. I have added my email address at the end of this letter._

_I hope you are both doing well, and that you are not too sad. Thank you so much for sending me the photographs of our family - I will treasure them. You all look very happy. Maybe you will start to feel better knowing that, although you have lost your parents, you have gained a brother, who is very excited to know you._

_I’m sorry I have not had the chance to meet you yet. School and exy have kept me very busy, but I will be travelling to France this summer. I have arranged for some time where I can meet you both, if you would like._

_Please tell me more about yourselves. Who are your friends, what do you like to do? I’d love to hear all your stories._

_Thank you again, very much, for your letter. It would have been very hard to hear of our parents death without your words to soften the blow._

_Be brave. I will see you both soon._

_Love,_

_Your brother, Jean._

Jeremy read the letter quickly, then leaned on Kevin’s shoulder as he read it more slowly. His eyes lingered warmly on Jean, who waited anxiously for their opinion.

“Well,” Kevin said, folding the letter neatly.

“It’s beautiful, Jean,” Jeremy said, with a smile.

Jean relaxed. “Thank you. Kevin?”

Kevin fidgeted for a moment. He let Jeremy take the letter from his twisting fingers, then said, “It’s the sort of letter I would have loved to receive from a brother.”

Jean swallowed hard past a sudden lump in his throat.

The letter winged its way to France by registered post. Stephanie took care of it all for him, making no secret of her delight in the revelation of Moreau siblings. “When you email them, ask for their measurements,” she said. “We can send them Wanderers jerseys.”

Jean left Stephanie’s office that Friday evening with an unexpected spring in his step. He’d had his first official call with Edouard Mendy, the French national team’s Coach, and although Jean had been a little wary of his own standard of French, it had by all accounts gone very well. Jean would be lining up in the red, white and blue this summer, for the World Cup qualifiers.

It was still cold, but the evenings were getting just a little brighter. Kevin was waiting for him, bundled up in hat, scarf, and gloves. Kevin enjoyed admiring how good the burgundy colour looked on him, and resolved to buy him more presents in that colour. No more black.

“All good?” Kevin asked.

Jean nodded. “Where to?”

Kevin slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Jeremy’s at a Starbucks. Studying with the nerds. Lets go get him. I’m hungry.”

“Dinner’s on me.” Jean said, nudging Kevin’s shoulder companionably.

Another man might have felt restricted, walking down the street with his lover and being unable to hold his hand. Jean wondered if that would bother him in a few years.

But in truth, there was more than enough thrill in the novelty of just being able to walk down any street anywhere by Kevin’s side. Wrapped up as they were, there wasn’t a soul who would know them. It occurred to Jean then that he probably could hold Kevin’s hand. Just the knowledge was dizzying. The freedom. He kept glancing at Kevin, savouring it.

Jeremy was hard at work over probably his second or third coffee, but he looked up as soon as his phone buzzed. Jean could see his grin even through the blurry windows. He bid goodbye to his friends and took a few minutes to put on his layers. When he emerged into the cold, he was scarcely more recognisable than they were.

“Thought you might be hungry,” Jean said. “Want to go somewhere fancy?”

Jeremy gave his hand a squeeze. “It’s nice having famous friends,” he said. “That’s actually the only reason I keep you two around.”

“Careful,” Jean said. “We might decide we need a new Gary.”

“Who? Oh.” Jeremy snorted with laughter. “Ok, consider me warned.”

“Who’s Gary?” Kevin complained.

Jean let his hand rest on the back of Kevin’s neck, briefly. “Your predecessor. He didn’t last long.”

Kevin huffed a little as they marched along in the snow, until Jeremy poked his ribs to let him know he was being teased.

Jean planned to treat them well tonight. It wasn’t lost on him that he simply wouldn’t have made it through the last few weeks without them. Even if he’d somehow managed to get to a good place without them, those letters would have completely destroyed him. As he listened to Jeremy and Kevin argue companionably about the state of the pro league table, Jean decided not to lean into the impulse to contemplate what life would have been life, if things had been different. He didn’t want to know, and it simply didn’t matter.

He was here now. He’d made it. He was in love with two good men, and against all the odds the world had seen fit to widen that family even further. He kept Alec’s letter in his wallet, folded up small. A reminder that he had yet more opportunity to be better. Another opportunity to be loved, and to receive love in return.

And in the meantime, he would take every morning and every night as the gifts that they were. Together, they would go on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm @lazarusthefirst on twitter and thetrojeans on Tumblr <3333


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